The Wayside
by Gan Xingba
Summary: A KOTORII fic. The story of Disciple in a male Exile universe: Mical returns to Dantooine, and makes a discovery that propels him down a new path.
1. Chapter One

**To the readers:** This is the same fic that I have posted on the KOTOR Fanmedia Page, the link to which is in my profile. However, the flaw with that site is that they only allow feedback from people who are members. Recently, I have been debating whether or not I am going to continue this fic beyond the already completed third chapter, and in order to determine my course of action regarding this fic, I will need all the constructive feedback possible. I still encourage you to go to the KOTOR Fanmedia Page to view this and other fics, so don't take this as an attack on that site, I simply need help with my decision. Now, without further adu, here is the first chapter…

Edit: I have made a revision in response to Shibboleth's Aeon's review. I hope it clears things up a bit.

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**The Wayside**

By Gan Xingba

**Chapter One**

"Here we are. Dantooine," says the pilot over his shoulder as I rise out of the copilot's seat. "Don't know why you'd want to come to this place, but good luck doin' whatever it is you're doin'."

"Thank you for the transportation," I reply, and I pick up my duffel bag. "I took the liberty of transferring the sum we agreed upon to your account. I wish you well."

I don't really know the man that well, so without further farewell necessary, I make my way to the exit ramp and walk out of the aged freighter. I'm greeted by the familiar emptiness of the rusted metal landing pad that is the Khoonda Spaceport. Its only occupants are the elderly mechanic and the dysfunctional protocol droid that were here on my last visit, the latter of which manages a slightly garbled "Welcome to Khoonda!" as I make my way past it.

As I walk towards Khoonda, I realize that I have no idea why I came back here. My mission was done and over with on this planet. I had taken every bit of knowledge I could from the Jedi enclave here back to the Republic database on Coruscant, and I had reported the whereabouts of the exiled Jedi, Vagus Machaera, to the Republic...

Is that the reason I return? Some sort of wish for nostalgia? No, that's not a possibility. It's true, I had worshiped him as my hero for all those years at the Academy when I was a child, but the Mandalorian Wars changed that. Before the wars, he had been the shining symbol of the ideal Jedi, always doing the right thing, and always loyal to the code. Then, he left for the wars. Being the young fool that I was, I left the Jedi because he had; I tried to mimic him, thinking he couldn't possibly be wrong. But he _was_ wrong, and so was I.

Unable to join the wars myself, I simply heard of my idol's horrific battles. There was Dxun, with its endless body count, Serraco in its barbaric glory, and finally there was Malachor. After hearing of the absolute slaughter committed at Malachor, I finally realized what he had become. The war had changed him, it had taken everything about him I had looked up to and destroyed it, replacing it with darkness. This was how I had always imagined it, at any rate. I had never seen him after the war, I only heard of his exile, but there was no doubt in my mind that only the dark side could have led him to do what he did.

Then, here on Dantooine, I saw him again in the library of the Jedi enclave. He had not been alone, though I took no time to examine his companions during our brief conversation. He did not recognize me, though that was hardly a surprise after all these years. It had been a standard conversation one would have with a stranger in a supposedly abandoned facility ("Who are you?", "Why are you here?", etc.), during which he had not given any indication of his darkness, nor had he shown any inclination to the light. Of course, I am not such a fool to think that has any meaning. One of the darkest things in the galaxy is deception, thus my previous conclusion remains unchanged.

He will have left now, anyway, so I need not concern myself with him. But if not him, then why am I here? The will of the Force? Perhaps…although the Force abandoned me personally almost a decade ago…

I put my thoughts on hold as I approach the entrance to Khoonda, however. Not because I don't wish to think about that right now, but because there is a young woman in patchwork armor pointing a blaster rifle at me.

"Halt! State your business here in Khoonda!" mandates the woman as I approach, clearly taking her job very seriously.

While I would be prepared for this if I were entering a high grade military facility, it was completely unexpected for such a…well, low grade one as Khoonda. Many people may be startled to the point of jumping if this were how their daydreaming was ended, but I am perfectly capable of restraining myself from such actions. After all, if I were visibly flustered by someone pointing a weapon at me, I wouldn't have lasted very long as a Republic Intelligence field agent.

"No need to be pointing weaponry at me," I respond, and stop walking in compliance with her order. "I'm Mical. I work for the Republic. I was here about a month ago for research."

"Oh yeah…" she says, lowering her blaster rifle as a loom of recognition appears on her face. "You're that historian guy. Sorry about that, just have to be careful. You never know when more mercenaries will attack."

"More?" I ask with a bit of confusion. "You were attacked before?"

"Big time," she says, shaking her head a little. "There were tons of 'em."

"What happened? How did you stop them?" I inquire, eager to learn more about this startling turn of events.

"That Jedi happened," she answers simply. "That guy was unbelievable. Him and his crew did almost all of the work for us. Without him, Khoonda wouldn't be more than a memory."

"This Jedi…" I begin after a few moments of stunned silence. "What did he look like?"

As she describes him, I have to struggle a little to prevent my jaw from dropping. The man she is describing matches Vagus Machaerain every way. Was it the he who saved these people? He could have let Khoonda burn, or he could have even joined the mercenaries. Yet he did neither, and instead he risked himself to save this place? Could this be possible?

I thank the woman for the information and head inside, thinking that perhaps she was confused. Perhaps it was some other Jedi that did this, and not the exile. I talk to several other people about the subject inside, and they have the same story, with the same hero.

I sit down on one of the public benches and look towards the ceiling as I try to collect my thoughts. This new information changes everything. No fallen Jedi would do this. No soul filled with darkness would put their very life on the line to save a town full of innocent people. If he has not fallen, then the wars did not change him, they simply changed how I viewed him, and if he has not changed, then the only reason he would come here would be if something of terrible importance. That means…oh, what a fool I have been!

I take a few deep breaths to calm the building frustration inside me as I think about the meeting we had back in the enclave. I see now what I could have done, no, what I _should_ have done. I should have offered to join him, and to take part in shaping the future of the galaxy as his ally. Instead, I chose to stay by the wayside as the fate of the galaxy is being determined, and all because I refused to forgive him for the Mandalorian Wars; because I thought my hero had betrayed me. In reality, though, it was not he who betrayed me with his actions in the war, but I who betrayed him by losing faith in him.

While this is does indeed put things in a new perspective, surely it's not why I have returned here, is it? Has the Force brought me here just so it can taunt me? No, there must be something more here…and if that is so, then there is only one place it could be.

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When I arrived at the Jedi enclave, I had been prepared for a countless number of scenarios to greet me, but nothing close to what I now looked upon. Three Jedi Masters, Vrook, Kavar, and Zez-Kai Ell, all lay lifeless upon the ground. I had met Vrook myself from my time as a Jedi in training, and the other two were famed members of the Jedi Council, so they were easily recognized. To even stand as an equal in combat against those three would be a feat in and of itself, but to kill them…

I slowly walk up to the body of Master Vrook, partly so I may check for his cause of death, and partly to prove to myself that he was actually deceased. I kneel and examine the body, but this only adds to my growing state of panic. There are no cuts, burns, or wounds of any kind. It was as is his very soul had been sucked right out of him. I check the other two, and the results are the same. What in the galaxy could have done this?

I close my eyes and try to calm my thoughts. Too many emotions are running rampant in my mind, and if I am to think clearly, then I must regain control of them. Once I have done so, I immediately come to a conclusion. Whatever did this is the very same thing that caused the Jedi to disappear from the face of the galaxy so suddenly. That is the only explanation, unless Vagus spontaneously went insane after saving Khoonda.

I start to stand, but I stop when I notice a cylindrical metal object hanging of Master Zez-Kai Ell's belt: his lightsaber. I unclip it from his belt and examine it, revealing no sign of damage. I had better keep these, if not for simple proof of their demise, than for...research.

I quickly shove Zez-Kai Ell's lightsaber into my duffel bag, and do the same with Kavar's and Vrook's before finally heading towards the enclave's exit with all due haste. I have to report this to Admiral Onasi immediately.

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I arrive at Khoonda's militia headquarters to find it occupied by one distressed looking militiaman typing furiously at a computer console.

"Look, if this is about anything less than mass murder, then you're just gonna' have to deal with it," he states without looking up from the console. "If you counted all the hairless Wookies in the galaxy, you'd be damn close to the number of men I've got."

"Actually, I just need to use your long-range communications facility," I respond politely. "I'm here on Republic business, and I need to use your communications facilities. I have my ID if you need to verify it, but I really must make contact with command as quickly as possible."

"Oh! Sorry about that," he says, suddenly rising to his feet and almost knocking over a stack of datapads in the process. "I'm not normally like that, but I'm trying to secure a whole planet with eight of the greenest recruits the galaxy's ever seen, so I'm kinda' on edge lately."

That makes sense. Other than that young woman at the entrance, I hadn't really seen any other militia members in Khoonda. There had definitely been more before, and, come to think of it, this fellow didn't look anything like the grizzled veteran that was running the militia on my last visit.

"That sounds problematic. What happened to the others?" I ask, as I remove my ID card from my front jacket pocket and hand it to him.

"They're off planet with Zherron, the normal head of the militia, on some mission for the Republic, and I got left in charge of things back here with the rookies. They must've scrambled all loyal forces in the sector if they bothered calling us." he answers while swiping my ID through the terminal's scanner. "There we are…yup, looks like you check out. Let me take you to the COM room."

He hands my back my ID and walks past me, motioning for me to follow. He was probably right, the Republic would only use effort calling Dantooine's militia if it were part of a widespread call for assistance. More than likely they had finally decided to intervene in the Onderonian Civil War that had broken out recently. After about half a minute of walking down the hall, he stops at a blast door, swipes his ID card in the scanner, and punches in the access code on the small panel pops out of the wall.

"There you are," he says as the door slides open. "Don't bother letting me know when you're done. The door'll lock automatically when you leave."

"Thank you. Your assistance is most appreciated." I say with a salute, and after it is returned, I step into the COM room.

Having been here once before, immediately sit down at the communications console and enter in the frequency of Republic Fleet Headquarters on Coruscant. The _Sojourn_ was scheduled to arrive at Coruscant a couple days ago. After a few moments, my call is answered.

"This is Fleet Headquarters, go ahead Khoonda," greets the human woman through the holoprojection.

"This is Agent 5607, I must speak with Admiral Onasi immediately," I insist, making sure that I have an urgent tone in my voice.

"I'm sorry, but the Admiral isn't here right now," replies the woman with the usual toneless voice of a COM officer. "Transmit your ID for confirmation and I'll be able to tell you his location."

I comply, and soon I see the holoprojection looking at an unseen display panel.

"The Admiral is currently on Telos, helping it recover from the recent battle," she finally answers, still toneless.

"What! When did this happen?" I demand as that feeling of panic begins to set in again.

"About three days ago," she answers, still showing no hint of emotion. "Do you want me to patch you through to the _Sojourn_?"

That must be where the militia was sent, not Onderon. Telos is vital to the recovery efforts of the Republic, so it would make sense to scramble all available forces to its aid. But why would Telos be attacked in the first place? There's nothing of any value to pirates, so it couldn't have been a raid. This might be worth investigation.

"No…I think I'd actually like to speak with him in person…could you send a shuttle to my location for pickup?" I request, silently pleading not to have to hitch a ride on another freighter.

"You're in luck, there's one heading for Dantooine with an ETA of six hours," she responds after another few seconds.

"Thank you, miss."

I end the transmission, and let out a sigh. It has been a _very_ stressful day.


	2. Chapter Two

**To the readers/reviewers: **Thank you to all those who took the time to read this fic, and especially to those who left some feedback. Seriously, any and all comments that you might have concerning this fic are most appreciated. At any rate, here is the next chapter.

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**The Wayside**

By Gan Xingba

**Chapter Two**

Six hours, it turns out can be a long gap of time to fill when you're waiting at an empty landing pad. With nothing to busy myself with, I try meditating. Granted, this isn't what the Jedi would consider meditating, since I never get any visions from the future or the like, but I find that it helps clear my mind and keep me focused. The problem with my kind of meditation is that I can only sustain it for so long before I simply loose my concentration and stop, whereas Jedi meditation can last almost indefinitely at the behest of the Jedi meditating. That I've managed to meditate for nearly four hours is actually quite impressive for me, but it still leaves a lot of time.

So, what shall I do for these next two hours then? Ah! Of course! I reach into my duffel bag and pull out the late Master Zaz-kai Ell's double-bladed lightsaber. Back at the academy, I had shown a fair amount of prowess at using the double-bladed lightsaber styles. I had only been using quarter staffs with painted areas to signify the blades, however. I was only a trainee after all, and only when one became a padawan did one ever have the chance to even hold a lightsaber. I never thought I'd ever get that chance once I'd left the order, and now over a decade later, here I am with one right in my hand.

I stand up, and quickly survey the landing pad to make sure that the old mechanic is still absent. Seeing that he is, I hold the saber out in front of me, making sure that the blades are facing horizontally, and turn it on. The signature snap-hiss is music to my ears as the glowing purple blades shoot outwards from the saber's hilt. For a moment, I just stare at the sight before me, hardly believing that it's real. Then, giving the saber a little twirl, I start going through the basic movements. Though I occasionally get into melee combat situations during a mission as an intelligence agent, it is not nearly frequent enough to keep my old skills honed, so even the basics of what I learned at the academy are difficult for me to recall.

Frankly, though, it doesn't matter. Just the thrill of wielding the lightsaber is exhilarating, no matter how poorly I do so. It just feels so…so right. As soon as this thought crosses my mind, however, I stop and shut the saber down. Right? It feels _right_ for me to wield a lightsaber? Does this mean I still want to be…? No, no, stop that train of thought right there. This carries no meaning at all, you're simply letting yourself live a childhood fantasy, nothing more, and that _other_ childhood fantasy you are thinking of is long since dead. Drawing any conclusions rashly from something as simple as this is foolhardy. In fact, it's about time I stopped.

I walk back to my bag and put the saber back in. I'll find something else to pass the time.

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At long last, I hear the shuttle descending towards the landing pad, right on schedule. It's a small troop carrier judging from its size and sleek frame, which confirms the identity of its current occupants. Excellent, I had been hoping to get a bit more information on the Telos situation before meeting the Admiral. The group that walks down the exit ramp is exactly who I suspected it would be, a group of men in civilian clothes toting patchwork armor and an assortment of weapons – the militiamen of Dantooine. I quickly scan the group for Zherron, whose face I still seem to remember from before. Once I've spotted him, I briskly walk over and extend my hand in greeting.

"Hello again, Mr. Zherron," I greet with a smile. "I'm with Republic Intelligence. We met around a month ago here on Dantooine."

"I remember you. Mical, wasn't it?" he responds gruffly while shaking my hand, though without any friendliness. "What's a Republic Intel Agent like you doing back on this rock?"

"Investigating a possible lead. Nothing of real consequence." I reply nonchalantly.

"I see. Can't tell me, huh?" he says with an understanding nod. "Doesn't matter. I assume that you've got something to ask me if you bothered coming up to me in the first place."

Zherron had struck me as a fairly shrewd man on my first visit. Of course, you'd have to be to even do half the job he's done with the militia on this planet. Hopefully, that shrewdness would mean he understood what was happening at Telos.

"You are correct, I did have some questions for you," I admit. "I recently learned that there was an attack on Telos, and that your militia was called upon for assistance. Could you tell me what exactly occurred there?"

"I can only tell you what I saw, I'm afraid," he answers, with a bit of disdain in his voice. "Apparently, I'm too low on the ladder to get the inside scoop."

"That will do just fine," I assure him. "Please, tell me what you know."

"All right, just let me set down my stuff while I tell ya'," he begins and sets down his armor and blaster rifle with a relieved sigh. "Damn. Wish that armor was as useful as it is heavy. Anyway, when we got there, the first thing we saw was this massive capital ship headed towards Telos. Now, that a big ship like that was attacking Telos was surprise enough, but that wasn't the strangest thing about it. I recognized that model from my day in the Republic Army, that thing was a Republic ship."

"That doesn't make any sense…" I blurt out in bewilderment.

"It didn't…until we saw all the holes in the hull," continues Zherron. "That ship looked like it should have been a piece of scrap years ago, but somehow it was fully operational. There are plenty of places in the sector a Republic capital ship can get repaired, so the fact that it wasn't meant that it wasn't a rogue Republic crew. Anyway, that was all I saw of the ship, since we were dropped off at Citadel Station right away. From there on, it was your basic infantry battle for us."

"But exactly who was it you were fighting?" I ask, eager to get as much information as possible.

"That's the big question, isn't it?" he counters, suddenly lowering his voice a little. "It was the armor that gave them away. It was Sith armor."

This was an interesting turn of events. Was this attack linked to the deaths of the three Jedi Masters here?

"And here's something even more interesting," he adds. "That Jedi you were looking for, Vagus Machaera, showed up there also. Add that to the rumors floating around after the battle, and I think we might have been dealing with some Dark Jedi Master, or whatever the hell they call 'em."

"You're sure? I wasn't aware that there were any left," I respond, raising an eyebrow and stroking my chin as I contemplate the information I have just received.

"Neither did I, and I'll never know for sure, since the higher ups wont tell me anything. You might be able to get something out of them, though." he said, aggravation apparent in his tone and on his face. "That all you needed?"

"Yes, that will be sufficient, I believe," I answer, and give him a quick salute. "Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Zherron."

After he returns the salute, I continue onward towards the shuttle's boarding ramp. If Vagus was there, then Zherron's assessment of who was attacking Telos is most likely correct. Now the question is whether what I found here on Dantooine is linked to the attack on Telos. Hopefully, Admiral Onasi will provide me with that answer.

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Truthfully, when Zherron had told me it was the Sith that attacked Telos, I had expected far more damage than I saw as I walked through Citadel Station's corridors. Any damage that may have occurred had been reduced to blaster scoring on the walls and a few small holes that were being patched up by a swarm of repair droids. That it was in such good condition was likely due to the large effort being put forth by the Republic to repair the station, but somewhere in the back of my mind I wonder if it was because of Vagus. It appears that my idolization of him is beginning to resurface. I ought to be wary of it.

I receive a few salutes from the occasional guard on my way to the VIP residential area. Usually I don't receive any salutes at all, but I had changed into my Republic officer's uniform on the way here, so I had been expecting it. Being a field agent, I'm not used to such formalities, but I had figured that it would be inappropriate to meet an admiral in anything less. I still carried the duffel bag, however. I may need to show its cargo to Admiral.

I flash my ID to the guard stationed outside the Admiral's suite and after verifying it, steps over to the communications console.

"Sir, Agent 5607 here to see you, sir," the guard informs the Admiral over the COM system. "Will you see him now, sir?"

"One moment," I overhear from the console, followed by a few seconds of silence. "All right, send him in."

The guard motions me to enter, and I do so. Before me now is Admiral Carth Onasi, reclining in a comfortable looking chair with his feet propped up on a small coffee table and holding a glass that contains some form of hard liquor. At first, one might mistake him for a spacer in his current attire, and not the man often referred to as the last remaining hero of the Republic, but then again, this was also Carth Onasi, the "Soldier's Admiral". Though he has the rank and ability of an admiral, his personality is still that of a simple soldier, and for this his men adore him. However, it has always been my way to show proper respect for rank, and as such I give a sharp salute, though it is returned in a rather nonchalant fashion.

"At ease, soldier," requests the Admiral, to which I comply. "I've never really liked formalities that much, so you can go ahead and relax. There's a minibar to your right if you want something to drink."

"Thank you, Admiral," I reply and take a look at the minibar.

I never really developed much of a taste for alcohol, and I can't say I regret it. I can still enjoy a good ale on occasion, but only in moderation. Even now I'm only doing it out of courtesy. I pick a random brand of beer and pour myself a glass, before sitting myself down in a chair across from the Admiral.

"So, Mical, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?" he inquires after taking a sip from his glass. "I was told that it was urgent."

"Very well, sir. As you know, the Jedi have not vanished from the galaxy, at least not completely," I begin solemnly. "Just yesterday, I found three Jedi Masters on Dantooine…but…"

I reach into my bag and remove the lightsabers one by one, setting them down them onto the table. The Admiral takes a look at the weapons arrayed on the table and his expression suddenly turns grim.

"They were all dead," he finishes for me.

"Yes, sir," I confirm. "But that may not be the worst part. The manner in which they were killed…it was as if the life had been sucked right out of them. To do that to three Jedi Masters would take terrible power."

For a short while the Admiral just stares off into space, thinking about something. I've seen that look from several superior officers before, it's the look that they have when they're contemplating whether they should tell me something classified.

"Mical, have you heard about what happened to Katarr?" he asks.

"Katarr? It was a Miraluka colony, correct?" I respond, a bit puzzled as to why he's asking this particular question. "The official report says that it was wiped out in some sort of raid."

"Lies," he says bluntly before taking another sip of his drink. "When we arrived at Katarr, we found it in the same state as the three Jedi Masters that you found. The entire population of Katarr had the life sucked out of them."

"The whole planet!" I gasp in a mixture of shock and horror. "But how!"

"We just recently found that out, but before I tell you, I need you to answer a few questions yourself," he replies, finally turning his attention back to me. "The first being who those Jedi Masters were."

"Masters Vrook, Kavar, and Zez-kai Ell," I answer quickly, perhaps a little too quickly.

"I recognize the first two names. They were some of the best the order had, from what I understand. The third is less familiar," he states, stroking his chin in thought. "What makes me curious is how you recognized them."

This is quite the predicament I've worked myself into. I took great care to hide my status as an ex-Jedi trainee from anyone at all, even going so far as to erase most of my personal information from Republic Intelligence's archives. No one knew, and I didn't plan on anyone ever knowing. I shall have to tread carefully here.

"My field of expertise is dealing with Jedi related issues, sir," I reply coolly. "And those three were members of the Jedi Counsel before the Order dispersed. I made myself familiar with all counsel members' profiles so that I could recognize them instantly should I ever come across them. Were I to run into them and fail to notice, it could prove disastrous."

"And how was it that you ended up finding their corpses on Dantooine?" he queries, clearly not satisfied with my answer. "That takes an awful lot of luck."

"I had heard that there was a raid at the colony there, so I came to investigate," I lie. "However, I was making little progress, so I decided to sweep the Jedi enclave there for any information I had missed before. Instead, I found the corpses."

Admiral Onasi's eyes narrow ever so slightly as he stares intently at me, as if trying to will me to admit to something. It was a well constructed falsehood, though, if I do say so myself. The most effective lies are those based partially on truth, as was the case in this instance. Finally satisfied, the Admiral's eyes return to normal as he becomes convinced that I am indeed telling the truth.

However, as I am about to ask the Admiral a question, I sense something amiss. Something…something is in my head. A Jedi mind probe? Impossible, the Admiral is most definitely not a Jedi, of that I am certain. Yet I still feel something. Fortunately for me, even though I have lost touch with the force, I am still plenty capable of guarding myself against mind reading and the like, especially when it's being used as cautiously as it is now. I take a drink from my glass to stall for time until I finally fend off the presence in my mind. It appears that the Admiral has a Jedi friend watching…most peculiar. However, if this mystery Jedi is in league with the Admiral, then there is no real reason to look into the matter…yet.

"May I ask what it was you were going to tell me about now, sir?" I request as I set my drink down.

"Right, of course," says the Admiral, the interrogative look now gone from his face. "You see, there was a secret meeting of Jedi going on at the time Katarr was wiped out. I was one of the few non-Jedi that knew about it, so I sent a probe into the system and stayed nearby as a precaution. An unknown ship entered the system, and by the time I got there, the planet was wiped clean of life. However, the probe managed to pick up a significant amount of information from the vessel, and the data matches exactly with the one that just attacked Telos. I'm assuming that you already found out about the incident."

"For the most part, yes, though I am curious to know how the predicament was resolved," I respond, although I think I know what happened anyway.

"That exiled Jedi took care of it," comes the expected reply. "He apparently killed whatever monster was in that thing and then blew it up from the inside, or at least that's the best we could tell. I didn't ask him specifically about it."

So, Admiral Onasi had a meeting with Vagus. I can only hope that Vagus told the Admiral some information relating to the dead Jedi Masters, seeing as I now know it had nothing to do with whatever attacked Telos, and since that was destroyed by Vagus, the information the Admiral just told me is nothing more than an interesting anecdote now.

"Did he tell you anything that may relate to what I found?" I ask hopefully.

"I'm afraid not, and since whatever did in those Jedi Masters doesn't suck entire worlds dry, we don't have any idea what might have done that," answers Admiral Onasi. "But I got the impression that there was something else out there that our friend Vagus was about to go confront, and I'd bet a lot of credits that it's the same thing that you're looking for."

"Did he say where he was going?" I inquire, now feeling a little desperate.

"Not even a hint," he replies and shakes his head.

I drop my head in despair. Now it's _my_ information that is just an anecdote. Vagus certainly knows how to make one feel useless.

"Don't worry, kid," assured the Admiral with a smile. "We happened to catch sight of one of his crew leaving in a separate transport that left the sector at a different trajectory. If you find him, he should be able to tell you where Vagus went. If he's willing to talk, of course."

"Who is this man, sir?" I ask, intrigued.

"Mandalore."


	3. Chapter Three

**To the readers/reviewers: **Once again, thanks to anyone who took the time to read this fic. Again, any feedback you could offer me with regards to this fic is greatly appreciated. This is the last chapter that I have written currently, and I am still debating whether or not I should continue on with this fic, so I continue to ask for your help in this regard.

Update (9/3/05): I have made the decision that I _will_ continue this fic. However, I am currently working on another fic as well, and I'm afraid that it has a slight priority over this one, which means that, while I will update as soon as possible, I can't promise that they will be as timely as I might like. Also, I will be updating this fic at its old home at the KOTOR Fanmedia page (although, due to a rather irritating editing system they have there, you might notice some small differences here and there). Ciao for now.

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**The Wayside**

By Gan Xingba

**Chapter Three**

My meeting with the Admiral had concluded rather abruptly, and I was directed to the ranking Republic intelligence officer for transportation and mission data. The officer provided a small shuttle, and since I lacked anything beyond the basics when it came to piloting skills, a pilot droid had also been assigned to me. Since it is taking some time to remove the Republic markings from both the droid and ship for stealth purposes, I suppose I should take this time to review the mission data before I leave the my temporary quarters and head to the hangar bay. I need to know where to start my search, after all.

After a quick scan of the information provided in the data-pad I had been given, I'm finding that the nature of my target is still a very uncertain thing. The data-pad contains all the known information about the being known as Mandalore that Republic Intelligence has gathered thus far, and it doesn't amount to much. What it does say is mostly useless to me, since it mostly deals with his combat capabilities and general appearance. I already know what he looks like, and if I'm in a situation where I have to fight him, then my mission is failed anyway. The information appears to be based on several short observation periods throughout the sector, and each time he has been sighted, he has been in the company of Vagus and his crew. This is nothing new, the Admiral had confirmed as much earlier. I need something to give me a hint on his location…Ah! Here we are:

"_…was reportedly sighted disembarking from a Basilisk War Droid on Onderon in the company of the exiled Jedi Knight…"_

I've never seen a Basilisk, but from what I've learned, they're relatively short ranged in terms of space travel and are usually dropped from a larger vessel. The report indicates that this took place even as a space battle raged above Onderon. If the Basilisk was dropped from a larger ship, someone must have noticed it, and if it wasn't, than it must have come from a nearby planet or moon. This may not be a very solid lead, but it is the only one available. I shall head to Onderon.

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Onderonian space is far more peaceful than I had expected. The civil war had begun just over a month ago, yet it appears that the Loyalists have already gained complete control of the skies.

"Incoming transmition from an Onderonian cruiser," croaks the pilot droid as we near the war-torn planet. "Should I patch it through, master?"

I nod an affirmative and the holo-projector on the control console lights up, the now projecting an image of an officer of the Royal Onderonian Army.

"_Spry Mynock,_ this is the _Righteous Blade_," announces the officer. "We have orders to inspect all civilian craft before they land on Onderon to ensure that they are not aiding the traitorous insurgents. Please shut down your engines and prepare for boarding. We apologize for the inconvenience."

Before I even got a chance to respond, the holo-projector shuts down. This is indeed an inconvenience, but I'm going to have to live with it. I could bypass the inspection by declaring my status Republic military personel, but I must keep that unknown for the sake of my mission.

"Do as he said," I order the pilot droid, who wordlessly complies.

I have spent far too much time waiting of late. Ah well, more time to plan. Now then, when I land the first thing I'm going to want to do is try and get some information about Mandalore's activities in Iziz. I should probably ask about Vagus instead, though, so as not to alert Mandalore if he has ears in that place. I should also try and learn about the fate of that Basilisk. If it is still in Iziz and it has some flight data on it, I may be able to find a way to find out where it came from…

I cut off my musings as I notice a medium sized shuttle approach my shuttle and move into docking position. The _Righteous Blade_ must only board important craft personally, and my little shuttle wasn't nearly important enough to merit that kind of attention. I suppose this means my cover is working. A hissing sound indicates that the docking process is complete, and I move to the airlock so as to great my visitors.

The airlock opens and three soldiers step through, blaster rifles in hand. They are followed by a serious looking officer, who immediately begins barking orders.

"Rento, start scanning for explosives. Zartha, search any bags you see for illegal material. Tanner, you guard the airlock," he says with great self importance. "I'll question the sentient."

Have to resist the urge to smile at the officer's behavior. All it takes is a flash of my Republic Intelligence ID card and men like him are usually red with embarrassment. I can't blow my cover for the sake of amusement, however, so I'm going to have to let him have his fun.

"Do you have any weapons with you?" demands the officer as he leans in towards my face in an attempt to intimidate me.

"Just a blaster pistol," I reply, and hold open my jacket so he can see the sidearm holstered at my waist. "I need to protect myself if that war is still going on down there."

"I didn't ask you to explain why, space-jockey," snaps the officer, still trying to intimidate me. "Now then, what's your business on Onderon?"

As he was speaking, however, I noticed that a security card was beginning to fall out of the front left pocket of his pants. That could prove useful.

"Just on a business trip," I reply politely. "Onderon seems to be lacking properly trained civilian doctors, so I came to see if my company could set up a clinic here."

"We'll see about that," growled the officer. "Show me your ID."

I reach into my jacket pocket with my right hand and pull out my fake ID and hand it to the officer. As my arm begins to lower back down to my side, however, I grasp the visible part of the officers ID card between to fingers and slide it out of his pocket in one smooth motion. I then shove both hands into my pockets and store the newly acquired card there as the officer finishes scanning my ID.

"Sir, scanning complete," reports the soldier that had been referred to as Rento. "Nothing found. The same goes for Zartha."

"Good work, soldier. Well, it looks like you check out Mr. Recubo," the officer says as he hands me back my ID. "You are free to go."

Turning sharply, he motions for his men to follow and they exit through the airlock. As the hissing sound indicates their departure, I examine the ID card that I stole. It appears that I won't have to do much planning after all.

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The peaceful state of space seems like some intentional deception now. The sector of Iziz that I was now roaming was peaceful enough, but you can't go more than five meters without finding another structure of some kind in a state of partial ruin. It is amazing ho-whoa!

Distracting too, apparently, seeing as I almost fell into a large crater in the middle of the square. A _very_ large crater. This could only be caused by some kind of siege weapon or bombing of some kind…but this is a civilian sector, only a fool would use that kind of firepower here. Of course! The Basilisk. No remains whatsoever…the Royal Army must have it, or maybe scavengers. Regardless, I shall find out soon enough. As soon as I find a security terminal, anyway.

I wander through the square for another couple minutes before spotting one near a gate of some kind. It's guarded by six regular guards and one officer. Not the most ideal location, to be sure. I'll need quite the distraction to get enough time to find out about that Basilisk. No…this won't do at all. Even if I could arrange for a distraction, it wouldn't last nearly long enough. I'll need to find another terminal.

Just as I'm pondering this, a commotion can be heard from behind me. I turn and quickly spot the source. A man in handcuffs is being dragged along by two soldiers yelling without stop. He appears to be inebriated.

"Lemee go yoos guys! C'mon! 'Aint this a free galaxy? Can't a man take a piss and not get 'rested fer it?" complains the drunk while the soldiers continue to push him towards their destination.

"Yeah, but not in someone's speeder you drunken idiot," rebukes one of the soldiers.

This line of conversation continues until the trio arrives at the base of a tower where a guard opens the door for them. The drunk's yelling finally stops once the door has been shut, and those that have been watching the display finally continue about their business.

Even if that's a civilian prison, it is bound to have a security terminal in there. There will be security cameras, but it would still be far easier to go unnoticed inside there than out here in the open. Besides, if the war is still going on, they likely have officers with little experience guarding the civilian prisons. I should prove more than capable of handling the situation.

As I start to approach the officer guarding the entrance, I notice that his uniform bears no markings other than that of the standard guard. There are no badges for a completed tour of duty, meaning this officer has no experience whatsoever. When I raise my hand in greeting when I draw near, and he quickly turns in the anxious fashion of a raw recruit.

"Sorry, but visiting hours don't start for another three hours," he says quickly. "Sorry, citizen."

"Truly? That is a shame," I say, shaking my head in false disappointment. "You see, a friend of mine was just brought in here. He has very little money, and I had hoped to pay the fine for him so that he go home to his wife. It would break her heart to hear of his predicament, and if I don't resolve the issue now, she will surely learn of it."

"Oh…well, that's really too bad…" replies the officer, clearly having a conflict between his conscience and his good sense. "Maybe I can make an exception…what was his name?"

"Don't bother checking. He won't be in the database yet, he just arrived a moment ago," I reply before the officer can even reach the nearby console. "He was quite drunk, shouting all sorts of nonsense."

"Oh, _that_ guy," says the officer, shaking his head. "Geez, they'll thank me for letting you take him off our hands. Go on in."

"You're generosity is greatly appreciated," I say gratefully as he opens the door with the security console.

I walk right in and look around the area. There is a desk up front, that has a terminal, but it is occupied by someone. The holding cells won't have one, either. My best bet is the records room. If the holding cells are down a level, then I should head up.

I silently but swiftly pass the man sitting at the front desk as he drools over some unscrupulous magazine and make for the stairwell. The trick to moving stealthily yet in an unsuspicious manner is in the posture, and I have become very adept at it. As I walk up the stairs I look nonchalant, but I don't emit a single sound. Unless the person watching the cameras is being very cautious, and civilian prison guards rarely are, then I should be just fine. I exit onto the second floor and quickly spot the door labeled "Records". It has a ID scanner lock, but the card I swiped from the inspection officer has the clearance to get me in. If the man watching the cameras was unconvinced before, the fact that I was granted access should ease any of his doubts.

The records room is slightly larger than I expected. It appears that they keep hardcopies of most files as backup, and there are quite a few rows of cabinets occupying the room. I spot the computer console in the far corner of the room, and quickly head over to begin my research. The man I swiped the ID card from was apparently a captain, and as such I have more than enough clearance to start searching through the reports on the recent battles. Finally, I find what I am looking for, "Analysis of the Basilisk War Droid Used by the Jedi Vagus Machaera." After some assessment of the damage, it moves on to an analysis of the droid's databank:

"…_appears to have all its data intact. It's coded, the larger problem is that it is in Mandalorian, so it is of no use to us. We have copied the data to this record."_

There was an attachment to a file that contained the data in the data from the Basilisk, and as said in the report, it was both coded and in Mandalorian. Despite this, it is still a good idea to download it into a spare data-pad. Mandalorians aren't known for being great with codes and the like, but there are very few non-Mandalorians who know their language. I'll have my work cut out for me.

I log out of the console, exit the records room and head for the stairwell. The guard at the desk is still focused on his perverted magazine, so I again avoid his notice as I pass. When I exit the front door, however, the guard outside addresses me.

"Hey, where's your friend?" he asks, raising an eyebrow

"They, ah…wouldn't let him go," I reply trying to hide my slight panic. "They said that he had to stay out the night as…mandatory punishment."

"Too bad," responds the gullible guard. "Well, I s'pose that's how it goes."

"Yes, I suppose," I say, almost sighing with relief. "Take care, and thank you again for the assistance."

"No problem," assures the officer, and with a wave, I depart.

I should head back to my ship and have its computer crack the code for me. The data may be useless until I find someone to translate it for me, but it is at least a start.

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Like alcohol, I find cantinas mildly amusing on occasion, and that is about the extent of it. As such, I am now quite irritated, having spent the last three hours in one cantina or the other. I had asked just about every possible informant in each place whether they new of someone who spoke Mandalorian. I had asked the bartenders, the pazaak players, and even the easily spotted information brokers, and after six cantinas, I had nothing to show for my efforts.

My shuttle had an automated data-slicer onboard, and had broken the code easily enough. If I can't find a translator, though, the data may be useless. Unfortunately, my orders had been very explicit about not making contact until I had completed my mission, and even then I was to report directly to Admiral Onasi. That ruled out contacting Republic Intelligence for a translation, so I was forced into this course of action.

Having just questioned the bartender and coming up empty yet again, I was about to head to the pazaak tables when a large, grizzled man approached me.

"I hear you're lookin' for someone who speaks Mandalorian," states the man, apparently thinking himself too tough for formalities.

"That is correct," I confirm to him. "Do you meet that requirement?"

"Depends," says the man, and then motions to an empty booth in the corner of the cantina. "Find out over a drink?"

I nod and we head over to the empty booth. This fellow is of the shady sort, I'll need to be wary of him.

"Now then, why would you be needin' someone that speaks Mandalorian?" queries the man.

"I need some data translated," I reply as I begin to fiddle with a shaker for some sort of spice. "And then forgotten."

"Sounds like important stuff…" begins the man stroking the stubble on his chin.

"Don't worry, I'll pay you quite well for your trouble," I interject, not wanting to waste time on some price naming game. "I just need it done quickly."

"All right," agrees the man. "Let me see it."

I take the data-pad with the Basilisk data out of my pocket and slide it across the table. The man starts reading it over while I continue to fiddle with the spice shaker impatiently. After a few moments though, the man's brow furrows and he sets the data-pad down.

"What does it say?" I ask eagerly.

"It says…" he begins, slowly moving his left hand to his hip. "You're too nosy."

The man pulls out a blaster from his hip holster, but before he gets it trained on me, I whip the spice shaker at it at knock his aim off to the left and before he can readjust, I already have pulled my own blaster on him.

"Set it down." I tell my assailant, and he complies slowly. "Exactly who are you working for?"

"Fatso the Hutt," answers the man sarcastically. "She's pissed that you just used her for sex."

"How droll. I don't know why I bothered asking. It is fairly obvious that you are a Mandalorian, and that data-pad leads me to Mandalore," I state as I retrieve his blaster from the floor and stow it in a jacket pocket.

"Let's pretend that you're not talking like some spice addict and all that stuff is true," responds the man, though the slight twitch in his eye makes it clear that I was correct. "Even then, I 'aint tellin' you what it says."

By now, people are starting to stare at us. If someone hasn't called the authorities, they will soon. If I'm not getting any information out of this man quickly, then it's time to leave.

"Fine, have it your way," I say and grab the data-pad from the table, keeping my blaster on the Mandalorian. "I'm going to holster my blaster now, but if you even reach for your own, I assure you that you will regret it."

Slowly, I lower my blaster and holster it. As I move my hand away from my sidearm, however, the Mandalorian pulls a knife out of his sleeve and lunges towards me. I duck his attack easily and deliver a left uppercut to his jaw. Before he can regain his balance, I follow up with right hook that knocks him off his feet and causes his head to collide with the edge of a nearby table. I have no time to see if he is unconscious, the local law enforcement will be here any minute. So, I make a hasty retreat into the cantina's kitchen, and find the rear exit.

Once out of the cantina, I walk at a brisk pace through several alleys. The Mandalorian is tougher than I thought, I can hear his cursing only a short ways off. Wait…if he's here working for Mandalore…then he could alert him of my presence. I have to go back and find a way to keep him quiet. Turning abruptly around, I begin to sprint back towards where I heard the Mandalorian. After backtracking a little, I find a cloaked figure kneeling over the unconscious form of the Mandalorian, touching its hand to his forehead.

I feel a strange…ripple coming from the figure as it does this, and I immediately recognize it as the remaining bit of force "sense" I have left. Whoever that figure is, they can use the force, and for some reason they don't want that Mandalorian running around, either.

"Don't worry, he wont remember a thing about your encounter," says the figure with a female voice, not even turning to face me. "I am here to help you, but we cannot talk here. Meet me at your ship. I will be waiting."

With that the figure disappears into a nearby alley, leaving me standing alone with a head full of questions. Sometimes, I wish I really _was_ just a historian.


	4. Chapter Four

**To the readers/reviewers: **I'm really and truly sorry that it took me so long to write this chapter. However, as I stated in note I added last chapter, this is a secondary project at the moment, so updates aren't going to be as frequent. They should, however, come faster than this one did. It just took me a little while to get into "Mical-mode" and get this chapter written to my satisfaction. Anyway, here's the next chapter, I hope you like it.

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**The Wayside**

By Gan Xingba

**Chapter Four**

The hanger is dark and quiet as I enter it, but as I approach my ship and punch in the security code to lower the boarding ramp, it becomes quite apparent that I am not alone. It's not as though I suddenly hear footsteps, or see the tail end of a cloak darting around a corner. No, it's that ripple again, and it's coming from inside my ship. Before the ramp even hits the ground, I draw my blaster pistol and hold it at the ready, eyes darting around as I step onto the boarding ramp and enter the small ship. Due to it's minuscule size, it takes but a moment for me to enter the ship's cockpit, where I find the cloaked figure from earlier standing there and waiting for me. To be perfectly honest, drawing my blaster pistol in the first place had been a rather unnecessary precaution, for the cloaked figure had been the one I had been expecting when I entered the ship. As they say, though, it's better to be safe then sorry. Now that I know that I am safe rather than sorry, so to speak, I slowly holster my pistol.

"Raise the ramp, if you would. I would like to make sure that we are in private,"

requests the female voice from beneath the hood of the cloak.

I comply, and as soon as the boarding ramp closes with a hiss, the cloaked figure removes her hood. Her face suddenly makes me pause and look very hard at her for a moment. Her blue eyes have a look to them that one could call serious, but it's something more than that, like a kind of pride…it's almost…regal.

"Bastila Shan!" I blurt out, suddenly connecting her face with the one seen on so many holo-casts at the end of the Jedi Civil War. "You're supposed to be dead…"

"That was the idea," states Bastila matter-of-factly. "Until the order is rebuilt, it has been decided that it would be best for me to remain hidden, for the most part."

I quickly catch myself before I can open my mouth and ask if she was the one probing my mind in Admiral Onasi's office. Asking such a question would give away my past, and besides, it is quite obvious that it was indeed her; otherwise she would not be here assisting me now.

"So, you were sent by the Republic to help me then?" I ask instead, not letting her sense my hesitation.

"Not the Republic exactly, no. Although, it was Admiral Onasi that sent me, if that's what you mean," she responds, her tone all business. "And, judging from that incident with the Mandalorian, it seems that you need all the help you can get."

"I do appreciate your assistance back there, but I do believe I would have found a way to manage without it," I counter, slightly offended by this sudden haughtiness.

"Perhaps you may have, but even then, you still need someone to translate that Mandalorian data for you," she rebuts. "And it just so happens that I am proficient in that language."

She has me there, though it pains me to admit it. I'm sure if I knew her personally, this superior tone would not be nearly as irritating to me, but right now it's taking me completely off guard. Still, I must maintain my composure. She is a Jedi of high renown and is offering to help me. I'll not dispose off my manners simply because I find her attitude unappealing.

"In that case, perhaps you could translate it for me now, if you don't mind?" I ask, pulling out my datapad from my pocket and cueing up the information I had taken from the Onderonian prison before handing it over to my newfound ally.

"You're not curious as to _how _I know the language?" she replies as she begins to pour over the data.

"That would be a foolish question. Most upper tier Jedi are able to translate an extensive number of languages if given the proper training and if they have made contact with someone who already knew the language," I answer, although at this she looks from the datapad with a raised eyebrow and I hastily move to correct my error. "I specialize in Jedi matters for Intelligence. There's nothing that republic records has recorded about Jedi abilities that I haven't been forced to read at one point or another."

Once I have explained myself, she looks at me for just a split second more before turning back to the datapad. If she's anything like the holo-casts and intelligence files say she is, than she has already figured out that I'm at least Force sensitive. If I play my cards right, I may be able to fool her into thinking that I have no knowledge of this, or that I'm self taught. If she finds out that I attended the Jedi Academy, I have a feeling that I'll be dragged down a path that I have no interest in even seeing.

"There's a lot of useless data in here, specs for the Basilisk and the like…" she says after a short silence. "Ah, here we go…it looks like we've gotten lucky, it was on auto-pilot to Onderon, meaning that it still has the coordinates of its launching point."

She turns abruptly on her heel and walks over the navigation computer, where she types in some coordinates. I walk over and look down at the screen over her shoulder as the computer processes the data. With a small beeping sound, a map of the sector is brought up, and with another beep, the section of space surrounding Onderon is highlighted. The map zooms in, revealing several moons surrounding the planet, and with a third beep it highlights on of the moons and zooms in once more, bringing up a geographical map of the moon. With a final beep, a small yellow dot appears on an exact point on the map, where I quickly surmise the launching point for the Basilisk is.

"Dxun," I say, reading the name of the moon from the top of the screen. "Uninhabited and covered in jungle. The local wildlife is rated at the computers highest threat level as well…perhaps the data is a fake meant to throw us off."

"No, I can assure you it isn't," disputes Bastila, and I notice a certain irritated quality to her voice, as though she had both been expecting and ruing this. "In fact, I daresay that this moon looks like a Mandalorian paradise."

"A paradise? Perhaps if you're a madman…" I reply stepping back politely from Bastila to give her room to move.

"The words "Mandalorian" and "madman" mean exactly the same thing, Mical. I know from experience," she says as she sits down into the copilot's chair, still grimacing.

I smile both at the jest and at Bastila's sudden mood swing. A Jedi as powerful as she is supposed to be would not act in such a matter over a simple hike through a dangerous jungle. However, it is neither my business or of any true interest for me to inquire as to the true source of this irritability, so rather than inquire on it, I simply walk towards the back of the ship to activate the pilot droid. Not that I'm in any rush to get to Dxun, but at this point, Onderon isn't much more appealing.

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I haven't been to Tatooine, but I highly doubt that even its legendary desserts could be much more unpleasant than the Dxun jungle. It is hot, humid, and because it has absolutely nothing resembling a path in sight, I'm constantly getting scratched by one form a plant life or another. However, while this may be unpleasant, it is certainly better than being blasted into nonexistence, which is most certainly what would have happened if we had chosen to land anywhere near where the Basilisk's launching point had been. As a result, I am left trying to hack a path through the jungle with a small vibroblade in this Force forsaken place while Bastila walks behind me, and I strongly suspect she is enjoying this.

"Tell me again why you can't use your lightsaber or use the Force to clear a path?" I ask irritably as my leg gets cut by some unpleasantly sharp grass.

"Because that would attract attention. Honestly, you'd think someone with Republic Intelligence would know about that sort of thing," she replies, and while I cannot see her expression behind me, I'm sure she's smirking.

I don't bother to state that the simple presence of two humans on a supposedly uninhabited jungle moon would be drawing attention enough, seeing as she'd never admit to that, and keep trudging forward through the jungle. After several more minutes of misery, I at last spot a clearing, and hastily change course to reach it. Unfortunately, I am only treated to several moments of blissful rest, for almost immediately what's left of my Force senses are going mad with warning. Bastila, of course, already has her lightsaber out as she follows me into the clearing, although she is keeping it deactivated for now.

Slowly, I draw my blaster pistol from my hip, and just as I have it out, I hear a loud roar to my left. I whirl around to see a massive lizard-like creature charging out of the brush. Its teeth and claws look like they could tear through dura-steel, much less human flesh. I manage to dive out of the way just before the beast's jaws clamp down on the empty space that I had just occupied, firing of several shots from my pistol as I fly through the air. The blaster bolts just splash off the creature's hide like water, not even leaving a scorch mark behind. They do, however, serve the unwanted purpose of drawing its attention towards me, and it quickly turns towards me with the clear intent of paying me back.

It never gets that chance. The beast had made the mistake of disregarding Bastila, and it's paying for it in the form of a large wave of Force energy slamming into its side. Now, I've seen plenty of Force powers in my life, enough to not be impressed by a simple "push" using the Force. Seeing a lizard the size of a small landspeeder being hurtled thirty meters through the air, though, is enough to leave me awestruck as I slowly rise to my feet. To add to that, Bastila zips through the air after the creature so quickly that by the time the signature snap-hiss of her lightsaber hits my ears, she has already driven it through the beast's jugular. Well, now I know why she's considered a hero among Jedi. I holster my pistol and walk over to Bastila as she deactivates her lightsaber and attaches it to her belt, but she cuts me off before I can say anything at all.

"Put away your pistol," she says quietly as I approach.

Were she not a Jedi of considerable experience and skill, I would ask for a reason as to why I would want to be weaponless in an obviously hostile jungle, but seeing as she is indeed that, I comply. Moments later, I here a strange thrumming sound from nearly every direction around me, and the answer to my unasked question is provided in the form of seven fully armored Mandalorians pointing weapons at me.

"Well, looks like we've caught ourselves a Jedi, boys," says one of the Mandalorians mockingly. "And she 'aint too bad on the eyes either."

"Zan, shut up," snaps a large Mandalorian in worn red armor, obviously the leader of the troupe as the other Mandalorian immediately followed his order. "You two, hands above your head. Zan, make yourself useful and take any weapons that they have."

That's good news. If they're bothering to take our weapons, then they may be taking us to the base themselves. Granted, we'll be prisoners, but at least we'll be at our intended destination. After a few moments, Zan finishes patting the two of us down, although Bastila is obviously using some kind of mind trick so that his hands don't stray where they aren't wanted, and then backs away with my pistol, my vibroblade, and Bastila's lightsaber in tow.

"Now that we're done with the formalities, you're coming with us," states the troupe leader. "And don't try any force tricks on me, Jedi. I've had to deal with way to many of those for one lifetime, and I would _kill_ not to have to deal with them again."

And so, once again I begin hiking through the unpleasant jungle of Dxun with Bastila. The good news is that this time I'm not constantly hacking through the brush since the two Mandalorians ahead of me are taking care of that. I think that being surrounded by members of a notoriously violent race that are pointing deadly weapons at me overrides that bonus, though. Bastila, oddly enough, seems perfectly calm, although I detect that same aura of irritate anticipation that I had felt on the ship earlier. There is something important that I am being left out of the loop on here. Hopefully, I will be able to figure out just what exactly that is.

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How to describe the base that the Mandalorians have set up on Dxun? It's essentially constructed out of salvage and some remaining structures from the Mandalorian war, so "rag-tag" comes to mind. Yet, there is a certain simple practicality to it that makes it seem more…"economical" in the end. Not that I have much time for sight seeing as Bastila and I are being led hastily through the camp before coming to a stop in front of the largest building in the base, which at first glance looks like a simple communications bunker.

"This is where you get off, Jedi," says the leader, motioning to the bunker's doors. "I don't know why, but when we described you to Mandalore, he said that he wanted us to take you to him. Consider yourself lucky that a Jedi like you gets to meet a man like him."

Bastila mutters something so quietly that I can barely make it out, and it almost makes me lose my composure and grin. It sounded as though she doesn't agree with the Mandalorian on her supposed luck. What is it that she is so…wait a moment, what are they going to do with me?

"I need to see Mandalore, too," I blurt suddenly, drawing glares from my captors. "It's urgent, and frankly it's the only reason I came to this moon in the first place."

"Well aint that a shame," says the leader menacingly, and I suddenly begin to get very bad premonitions about my fate. "As soon as the Jedi steps through the door, you're gonna' get a nice tour of our prison facilities instead."

"In that case, I'm not stepping through this door," snaps Bastila suddenly, and now all eyes are on her. "You heard me, I'm not moving an inch unless he comes with me. I require his presence if I am to meet Mandalore."

For a moment, we, that is, the Mandalorians and I, all stare baffled at Bastila's sudden demand. Jedi or not, she is an unarmed sentient in the middle of a base filled with Mandalorian soldiers. Just what cards she thinks she's holding is beyond my comprehension.

"Sorry, not happening," replies the troupe leader finally. "If it was up to me, even you wouldn't be getting in there, and even I would agree to let your little friend in there with you, I can't. Orders are orders."

"Then you can tell that brutish oaf of a man that you call Mandalore that Ill be standing right here until he agrees to let this man come in with me," stated Bastila stubbornly. "And tell him that I called him that, too."

Thankfully, they have orders to keep Bastila alive; otherwise I'm positive that the Mandalorians around me would be firing their weapons instead of just growling and brandishing them. The fine line between bravery and stupidity seems, to me at least, to be exactly the spot that Bastila is standing on right now.

"Get…in…that…door," growls the troop leader, just barely holding back unbridled rage.

"I told you, I'm not moving until I'm allowed to take this man with me," the defiant Jedi continues, crossing her arms and raising her chin slightly. "Now, are you going to go tell Mandalore my request or not?"

The troupe leader's gun is shaking as he grips it tighter and tighter to the point where it seems his hands might shatter from the effort. With a final resigned growl, he storms past Bastila and into the bunker, leaving Bastila, the five other Mandalorians and I all waiting outside. Of all the places in the universe, I remember thinking to myself that this would be a very bad place to die as we touched down on this wretched moon. I think I may have jinxed myself.

Maybe not, though, for from within the bunker, I hear the unmistakable sound of deep, bellowing laughter. All I can do is stare in astonishment at the door, a state that I assume the Mandalorians guarding me are also stuck in, until it eventually opens and the Mandalorian in the red armor walks out, shaking his head in what I would guess is dismay.

"He says you can both go in," he mumbles as he trudges past Bastila, his voice then lowering in volume as he proceeds to inquire what the hell Mandalore is thinking.

Surprisingly, Bastila makes no gloating gesture at all, and simply motions for me to follow as she moves to enter the bunker. I quickly catch up and fall in step beside her. However, before I can ask her just how she knew that we weren't going to be blasted and or pummeled by those Mandalorians for making such demands, the small entrance hall to the bunker gives way to a large, empty room filled wall to wall with equipment, ranging from communications consoles to a workbench littered with armor and weapons parts. In the middle of the room stands a large figure, wearing shining black silver Mandalorian armor, although the helm is most definitely different than that of a standard Mandalorian soldier. Immediately, I know that this is Mandalore, standing proudly in front of us with his arms crossed. Come to think of it, Bastila had carried a similar regal aura when I had first met her. At last, I know why Bastila felt such dread in coming here.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the spoiled Jedi princess," he states in a deep, gruff voice, and I can tell that from behind the helmet, he is smirking.

"And if it isn't the rude, barbaric Mandalorian thug," returns Bastila with a far less pleasant sound to her voice.

I'm beginning to think I would have been better off in a Mandalorian prison cell.


	5. Chapter Five

**To the readers/reviewers: **First, let me say I'm sorry. I am the worst updater the world has ever known. Please, oh please try and forgive me for this, if you are even still reading this fic. I can explain the first three weeks of non-updates: I was busy as hell. Since then? Well, to be honest, I just struggled to write this well. I've rewritten it several times over, and I'm still not sure how good it is, so please give your honest opinion.

Also, some of the points Prisoner 24601 brought up (thank you for the in depth review by the way, it made me smile), this site does not allow lines of asterisks, nor does it have an auto-separate function, and, as a result, Ill continue to use zeroes at this particular site. As for the Exile's name being funny, yeah, it is. I have a hard time naming characters. I believe it is referred to as the "Harry Seldon Syndrome" by us geeky Asimov fans. So, I just used Latin: "Vagus" means wandering, and "Machaera" means sword. Lame? Perhaps, but he's the only character I have to name, so I think I can get away with it. Anyway, enough of the chit-chat, here's my long delayed fifth chapter!

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**The Wayside**

By Gan Xingba

**Chapter Five **

Force sensitive beings all have what has been sometimes referred to as a "danger sense", that is, the ability to sense when they are in a dangerous situation or where danger will come from. However, there are also situations where this sense is simply stating the obvious, and is essentially useless. As I stand glancing nervously back and forth from Mandalore to Bastila, it becomes apparent that this situation is the latter. Evidently, the two know each other. Unfortunately, this doesn't appear to be a positive thing from my standpoint.

"Well, what could bring a Jedi princess like yourself to stand the presence of a 'barbaric Mandalorian thug'?" asks Mandalore smugly, causing one of Bastila's eyebrows to twitch.

"You know perfectly well why I'm here, _Mandalore_," she replies icily, putting a rather unflattering emphasis on the Mandalorian's title.

"I'm afraid we Mandalorians can't read minds," Mandalore quickly retorts, and I see Bastila's lip begin to curl out of the corner of my eye as Mandalore lets out a deep chuckle. "Come to try and beg me into working for the Republic again, perhaps?"

"Begging? You were lucky to even be considered for the offer," scoffs the Jedi, clearly trying, and failing, to keep a calm demeanor. "In fact, I'm _glad_ that you refused. The Republic doesn't need reckless, Mandalorian rock-heads in its army."

"From the looks of things, you need everything you can get. Not that I'd accept anyway," comes back Mandalore, not missing a beat. "But if that's not what you've come here for, then explain now. Unlike you, I do more than hide from the rest of the galaxy all day."

Bastila's fists are clenched now, and I can almost see them trembling slightly as she puts an increasing amount of force into the motion. The expression "fiery eyed" doesn't even come close to the inferno that is raging behind her gaze as she glares at the large armored man standing before her. If this confrontation was ugly before, it is going to become positively perilous now. I think that it is about time I intervene before someone loses a limb or two.

"You were traveling in the company of the exiled Jedi Vagus Machaera up until you parted ways after a battle at Telos, correct?" I interrupt, drawing an unpleasant glare from Bastila and the hollow gaze of Mandalore's helm.

"It's rude to interrupt adults when they're having a conversation, kid," said Mandalore coolly, and I quickly restrained myself from responding to the mocking statement. "But then again, at least you get to the point, unlike certain Jedi. Yeah, I traveled with him shortly, what of it?"

Bastila may look like she wants to filet me with her lightsaber at the moment, but at least this is getting somewhere. That is, it's getting somewhere if Mandalore keeps answering my questions. If he doesn't I'll just let him and Bastila spar one another verbally for a while and try again. Patience is the key to good interrogation.

"Vagus' whereabouts are currently unknown, and it is urgent that we locate him soon. Where was he heading when you left one another's company?" I continue, mentally crossing my fingers.

"Why do you want to know?" returns Mandalore. "If you're trying to recruit him, I doubt he'd accept."

"This is a far greater issue than recruitment. That is all that I'm allowed to say on the matter," I answer simply. "Now please, if you know where he went, I implore you to tell us."

"Typical answer right out of the textbook," grunts Mandalore with contempt. "I take back what I said, I don't like you."

I'm about to move forward with the interrogation when suddenly the sound of an object hitting the metal floor rings loudly from Bastila's direction. Seeing as nothing is lying on the floor, I'll assume that the sound came from Bastila stomping her foot onto the ground. Her anger is clearly not leaving anytime soon.

"Stop playing games, Canderous!" she snaps, and I quickly file away the name "Canderous" for future reference. "You know as well as I do the direness of the situation. Now tell us what you know, and I wont take 'no' for an answer."

From what little I know of Bastila, that last piece was not necessary. I doubt she _ever_ takes no for an answer. Mandalore's chuckle tells me that he is also quite aware of this.

"All right, fine," caves Mandalore with mock reluctance. "If you're in such a hurry, I'll tell you where he was headed. When we left, he and his crew were headed towards…"

This is it! Finally, I can find Vagus and determine what this unseen threat is that he is fighting. I'll even be able to join the fight myself. I can correct the mistake I made on Dantooine. Unless…

"…Malachor."

…he doesn't answer us. Malachor was all but destroyed during the final battle of the Mandalorian Wars. The planet collapsed upon itself and created a huge gravitational vacuum, destroying the planet and any ship unlucky enough to be in the vicinity of it. What was left of the planet wasn't even habitable for life anymore. This Mandalorian is fooling with us.

"You're certain he was headed there?" asks Bastila before I can speak, much to my dismay.

I simply stare blankly at the female Jedi for half a moment. Bastila is no fool, but it was clearly stated in the Republic Intelligence files on Malachor that the planet is no longer safe for life. Yet, she seems dead serious about this all of a sudden. She must know something about this that I don't…again.

"Not only did he tell me himself, but I managed to get into the _Hawk_'s computer and get a feed of its jump route as it left Telos," Mandalore answers, the smugness finally fading from his voice as I file away the word _Hawk_ right next to "Canderous" in my mind. "They took a pretty round-about route, but their final destination was definitely Malachor."

There's a pause as Bastila closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. I can't help but feel like I have just been completely isolated from the conversation, but that's really of no consequence. So long as I get the information I need, I could really care less.

"His actions thus far are to the contrary, but I'd still like you're reassurance on it," begins Bastila. "You don't think he'll use it, do you?"

"Not a chance," Mandalore replies, shaking his head to add emphasis. "Trust me, if he was the kind of guy that would do that, he wouldn't have even made it to Telos."

I raise an eyebrow quizzically as my eyes dart back and forth between the Jedi and the Mandalorian. I can only hope that they don't end up speaking cryptically like this for the entire time, or I'm not going to learn anything. Of course, that is probably the very reason that they are speaking in such a manner in the first place. Honestly, I'm beginning to wonder why the Admiral sent me on this mission in the first place if I am going to be so useless.

"If he is not going for _that_ reason, then…" starts Bastila, her eyes suddenly growing ever wider.

"That's right, someone else _is_ using it," Mandalore finishes for her, causing Bastila to complete the transformation from deadly seriousness to what appears to be a mix of shock and panic.

"How is that even possible?" she blurts out, regaining much of her voice's lost volume. "She didn't tell about it to anyone but us, and the only other people that would know about it are already dead!"

I feel the sudden urge to ask the pair just what in the hell they are talking about, but I repress it. Instead, I just slump my shoulders and look at them with increasing confusion, although truthfully, I don't think that this is any better.

"Not quite. It looks like she told someone else back during the Mandalorian Wars, an old Jedi woman named Kreia…her first master," Mandalore continues, pausing a moment as Bastila almost takes a step back in surprise. "My best guess about the whole thing is that she moved in on it towards the end of the Jedi Civil War with some followers. The rest of the story is a bit complicated, and I'm not even sure if most of it's right."

The last thing I need is more complications. It sounds like this "Kreia" is the thing that killed the Jedi on Dantooine, and, to be quite frank, that's all the details I really need for the moment. Vagus and his crew can fill in the details in a debriefing session, but time is of the essence right now. With this in mind, I take a step forward to attract Mandalore's attention before I speak.

"This woman, Kreia, is she responsible for the deaths of three Jedi Masters on Dantooine?" I ask bluntly.

"Yeah, that was her handiwork alright," answers Mandalore after a slight pause to recover from my straightforwardness.

"You also said she has followers, do you know approximately how many she has?" I query without pause.

"Let's put it this way, that gigantic ship that attacked Telos?" returns Mandalore. "Full of 'em."

I nod slowly, and then turn to Bastila. I don't need any more information, but she seems to. Judging from the rather cryptic way they have been speaking, I'll only be a hindrance to her ability to get that information if I stayed.

"My mission doesn't require any more information than this, so I think I shall head back to the ship," I inform her, and she nods permissively. "Thank you for your time, Mandalore. I assume that your men will not shoot me if I try to leave the camp?"

Mandalore confirms this with a nod and I give a respectful bow before turning to leave the bunker. If things are as bad as Mandalore made them sound, I should inform the Admiral of these recent developments immediately. With any luck, we might act quickly enough to stop anything terrible from happening.

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The fact that I knew where I was going this time made my second trip through the Dxun jungle that much shorter. It did not, however, do anything to relieve the overall unpleasantness of it. My tiny little shuttle looked like a Correllian pleasure yacht when I arrived as a result of this, but at the moment, it feels smaller and more cramped than ever before. Being put on hold to speak to the Admiral when I had made sure to get the urgency of my message across had been irritating enough, but for twenty minutes? I probably woke the COM officer from his nap, and this is his revenge.

Finally, the holoprojector image floating in front of me changes from the rotating emblem of the republic and is replaced with an image of Admiral Onasi, sitting at an empty desk. I flash a salute out of instinct, a futile effort to acknowledge the military hierarchy around the Admiral, it seems, as he quickly signals me to be at ease with a wave of his hand.

"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything, sir," I apologize.

"I wasn't doing anything that important. Besides, I was told that this was urgent," he replies, and I inwardly curse vengeful COM officers everywhere while keeping a straight face. "I take it that you've learned where our exiled Jedi is, then?"

"Yes, sir, and his target has been identified as well, sir," I answer. "He is apparently chasing a woman named Kreia who also is the one who killed the three Jedi Masters on Dantooine. According to Mandalore, she has a rather large group of followers as well, perhaps enough to form an army. Supposedly, he plans to confront her on Malachor."

The Admiral is frowning now, not the scolding kind of frown, but the kind of frown that let's all who see it know that its wearer does not like what is going on. After a pause, he addresses me again.

"Do we know what this woman plans to do?" he asks darkly.

"I don't know, sir," I reply, shaking my head. "I did not ask about her exact motives, but I expect that they are unclear. Bastila may have more information then I do, her and Mandalore were discussing the details when I left to report to you."

"So, she managed to meet up with you after all? Good, I was beginning to worry about that," mentions the Admiral, clearly just trying to put on a positive appearance.

"Sir, with all due respect, I don't think that we have any more time to spend on intelligence gathering," I say hastily, trying my best not to sound overeager. "Based on the information we have now, I think the best course of action would be to eliminate this threat as soon as we can."

"Vagus is already moving to take care of it, you said so yourself," he says, and quickly raises a hand to cut me off as I begin to protest. "But Jedi can fail just like anybody else, I've seen it myself. We may need Bastila's help for this, so I'll have our navigation officer send you coordinates for a rendezvous with the _Sojourn _on our way to Malachor when I cut transmission. Get there as soon as you can. Admiral Onasi out."

The transmission cuts out before I get the chance to salute the Admiral, perhaps on purpose, and less than a minute later the Admiral's voice is replaced with a beeping coming from the shuttle's computer as it receives the rendezvous coordinates. At about this time, Bastila enters the shuttle and the landing ramp closes with a hiss behind her. At first, I'm a bit shocked to see her here so early, but then I remember that a twenty minute hike becomes a lot shorter when you're a Jedi.

"Have you already reported what you've learned to Carth, then?" she asks me as I move to re-activate the pilot droid.

Carth? First she calls Mandalore "Canderous", then she reveals that she is on a first name basis with the most powerful man in the Republic military complex? To say that this Jedi has connections is a vast, vast understatement.

"The Admiral instructed us to rendezvous with him on en-route to Malachor," I reply, to which Bastila nods in response and proceeds to sit down in the copilot's chair.

Even if I am merely being taken along to Malachor because I happen to be on the same ship as Bastila Shan, I still can feel a small bit of excitement growing within me. Finally, the time for me to simply stand to the side and watch things unfold is over. Perhaps, just perhaps, I still may be able to give Vagus the aid that I failed to give him back on Dantooine.


	6. Chapter Six

**To the readers/reviewers:** I'm getting into a bad habit of not updating for long periods of time, but don't worry! Since late October, I've had an unexpectedly heavy workload, but that's all gone now. This time it's for real: updates will come much faster. Anyway, I've got a little Christmas/Hanukah/Kwanza/Any-other-holiday-going-on present for you: the next chapter! Just be thankful it wasn't socks.

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**The Wayside**

By Gan Xingba

**Chapter Six**

The docking bay of the _Sojourn_ is totally empty as our ship touches down, save for a lone figure waiting by the entrance to the landing bay. It doesn't take an intelligence agent to figure out who it is, and sure enough, as Bastila and I walk down the exit ramp, Admiral Onasi is walking forward to greet us. I immediately offer up a salute, and the Admiral seems to be fighting back a grimace as he casually returns it and waves me down.

"This must be about the third time I've had to tell you that I don't like formalities, kid," he says wryly.

"Sorry, sir, its instinctive," I reply with complete honesty.

"Don't worry about it," he responds, smiling amusedly at me before motioning Bastila and I to follow him back towards the landing bay door. "The operation could go one of two ways, depending on whether we're able to find Vagus on the planet, so a lot of this depends on you Bastila."

"He has a very unique Force aura. If he's there, finding him wont be a problem," Bastila assures the Admiral calmly as the bay door opens and we begin to walk down a long, empty hallway.

"Well, if you o find him, then we're going to be sending down several elite strike teams to try and lend him assistance. Malachor's gravitational field is dangerous, but that's a risk we'd have to take," the Admiral continues. "If he's not down there and that Sith still is, then we'll just bombard Malachor with every gun we have. We have two whole sector fleets here, that should be enough to finish anything that Vagus started."

We approach the end of the hall and Carth stops just before we reach the door. What semblance of Force sensitivity I have immediately senses the Force gathering around Bastila, and I turn towards her only to take a shocked step backwards as she slowly begins to fade out of visibility. I suppose this is of no surprise, such Jedi stealth techniques aren't common, but a Jedi as powerful as Bastila that has been trying to keep herself hidden would surely know them.

"I'll make my way to your quarters, Carth," she says, now barely more than a dim hologram projection and becoming less visible still. "Contact me when we arrive."

"About that, Bastila," he says, turning towards her with his jaw set as if it expects to be punched. "You're going to be on the bridge this time."

"What?" she snaps, suddenly letting her stealth technique dissipate and subsequently coming back into focus. "Carth, I know you trust your crew, but you can't expect-"

"I know, this is going to blow your cover, but once this is over you won't need to hide anyway, right?" he explains, and then hastily cuts off her protests to elaborate. "Besides, I've already told the men what they're up against, because if I hadn't, it would be mass panic if they found out. They know they're up against Sith, so if they see that a Jedi hero like you is with us, their morale will skyrocket."

"I could do that with my Battle Meditation anyway, Carth," Bastila comments, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed with disapproval.

"Yeah, but it would be even more effective if we're confident to begin with," counters the Admiral. "And we'll need you with the strike team if Vagus is still down there, anyway."

Bastila lets out a long sigh and looks down at her feet. The Admiral is absolutely correct on all points, and she is smart enough to realize this. Then, why is she still so reluctant? Could she be feeling some kind of pressure? No, she has been hailed as a hero since she first entered the Jedi Civil War, she is no stranger to these situations. I feel like sighing myself, as it seems like this is yet another detail that I have been left out on. Seeing as it would be impolite to pry, however, I'm afraid I'm going to have to just learn to deal with it.

"Carth, you know I'm still not ready for this," she states softly, not moving her eyes from her feet.

"Damn it, Bastila, everyone's already forgiven you, and you've redeemed yourself a hundred times over," Admiral Onasi berates her, as I further confuse myself trying to understand what they are talking about. "Listen, you're probably the most powerful Jedi out there right now, and certainly the most famous. If the Jedi are going to survive, you're going to have get over this and step into the spotlight eventually. You may as well get it over with now."

"You're right, of course," agrees Bastila after a short pause, and she lets her eyes return to their normal level and regains her posture. "Shall we go then?"

"Uh…excuse, me, sir," I interject as politely as possible as the war hero and the galaxy-renowned Jedi move towards the door. "Where exactly do you want me to go, sir?"

"The bridge, of course," replies the Admiral, throwing me a puzzled look. "This operation started because of what you found, didn't it?"

I nod dumbly in response as the Admiral throws me another amused grin before turning and opening the door. We, or rather, I should say Bastila, get at least two dozen stares of awe from the crew members rushing about to prepare for the operation as we walk through the halls of the _Sojourn_, causing more than half of them to simply stop dead in their tracks and ogle. Outwardly, Bastila seems totally unaffected by this, but I am getting the feeling that inside she is struggling to stay calm.

Being irritated by Mandalore is one thing, the man clearly had a knack for getting under her skin, but for her to be uncomfortable in this situation is another thing entirely. The Admiral had said that she had been forgiven for something, so by best guess is that it has something that happened in the Jedi Civil War. Perhaps she made some kind of mistake that cost lives. Yes, that would explain it entirely. I suppose it is not that uncommon for traumatic incidents like that to affect someone. Honestly, I should feel ashamed for thinking it strange. Bastila may be a Jedi but Jedi are mortal like everyone else, and war can do terrible things to a mortal mind.

We reach the bridge, and my thought process is broken as the Admiral begins to issue commands. I look out through the bridge's window and take in the fleet. It is small in number, as all Republic fleets are these days, but the Admiral managed to scrounge together some heavy firepower. Malachor is a small planet, fortunately, so these ships just might be able to get the job done if we have to bombard it. I pray that is not the case.

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"Damn…when this guy gets the job done, he _really_ gets it done," mutters Admiral Onasi, voicing what everyone is thinking.

Only silence follows the Admiral's comment, for there really isn't much to say. Instead of a planet sitting before us, as there should have been, there is only debris. Malachor had been destroyed almost completely.

"Get us as close to that debris as you can get us," orders the Admiral. "I want a full scan of the area. If there is anything at all out there that might have survived this, I want it found."

I can feel the ship lurch as its engines drive it away from the rest of the fleet and towards the remains of Malachor. The soon, we are right amongst the chunks of metal and rock, the pilot of the _Sojourn_ keeping us out of harms way. Suddenly, my Force senses start flaring up, and it feels like someone is screaming inside my head. I start to sweat, and my breathing becomes rapid as the one scream is joined by another, and then another. My vision becomes blurry as scores upon scores of screams begin to flow into my head, and I drop down onto one knee, feeling my strength begin to fade.

Just as it gets to the point where I can no longer see anything but a swirling pool of color and I feel like I am about to scream myself, a hand rests upon my forehead. The screams fade away as a soothing feeling flows into me, and my vision clears to find Bastila kneeling down in front of me.

"Thank you," I manage as I try to catch my breath, wiping the sweat from my forehead as I rise to my feet. "I…don't know what came over me. Perhaps I caught something on Dxun."

"You heard screaming, didn't you? As though thousands of people were in great pain?" she asks as she too stands back up, and, taking my obvious surprise as a "yes", continues. "Sometimes, in places where there has been a great deal of suffering, that suffering manifests itself as ripples in the Force. In these places, those who are sensitive to the Force feel that wave of suffering whether they try to or not, and most who experience it tend to describe it as hearing a thousand people screaming in their head."

My pupils grow wide, and I am unable to do anything but stare at Bastila, too frozen with panic to make any other movement. This can't be happening, I've spent too long hiding myself, carefully covering every little detail that even hinted at my nature for this to happen so suddenly. There must be some way out of this…no, there isn't. I don't curse often but, well, I'm fracked.

"When did you find out?" I ask quietly, now having admitted defeat.

"I had suspicions since Telos, but I confirmed it on Dxun, when we were attacked by that beast," she answers, keeping her voice hushed as she moves to stand beside me and gazes out at the remains of Malachor. "The Force flares up naturally in Force-sensitives when they are in danger. It takes a great deal of expertise to prevent that from happening."

Well, at least she just knows that I'm Force sensitive and not an ex-Jedi trainee. Even if she knows about my abilities, my past is still safe for the moment. Now that she has found me out, though, what does she intend to do with this information? I am about to ask her this when the _Sojourn_ completes its scan of the area,

"There isn't a trace of any kind of power source or life forms out there, Admiral," reports an officer turning from his console to face his commanding officer.

"Alright, take us back to the main fleet," orders the Admiral, then pausing and stroking his chin for a moment before issuing his next command. "Send a message back to Command. I want every system in the Republic to be on the lookout for the _Ebon Hawk_, and make sure that they are checking for the ID signature that it was carrying back on Telos."

There are several soundings of "Sir!" as the crew sets about to follow the Admirals orders. The _Ebon Hawk_ must have been the ship that Mandalore was referring to back on Dxun; Vagus' ship. It seems logical than to think that if Vagus is alive, he will be with that ship.

"I just have to give the rest of the fleet an update on the mission status and I'll be done here," says the Admiral, turning to face Bastila and I. "You can wait for me in my quarters, Bastila. We can talk about what you've found there. Mical, I've already had private quarters arranged for you. The protocol droid to your left will lead you to them."

I turn to my left to indeed find a silver protocol droid waiting for me. It asks me to follow it with the usual politeness associated with protocol droids, or at least I assume so, for I am too lost in thought to pay attention as I follow it. It is a safe assumption that Bastila will tell the Admiral about my Force sensitivity in addition to whatever it was her and Mandalore were talking about after I left. They will likely take a look at my file to try and determine whether I am self-taught, an ex-Jedi, or something else entirely. My file has fooled everyone that's looked at it so far, but it has never been put to this kind of a test before. Normally, I would still have confidence in my ability to cover my tracks, but with the way things have been going recently, nothing is a certainty.

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Whoever invented the refresher deserves to be commended as the single most brilliant scientist in the history of the galaxy. It is hard to believe that the act of cleaning oneself can relax one's mind so greatly, but it does. Add to that an hour of meditation, and I am no longer as worried about whatever it is that the Admiral and Bastila have been discussing in his quarters. This situation is out of my hands, and no amount of worrying will give me any kind of control, so I might as well try to keep relaxed.

I put on my uniform, which had been brought to my quarters along with the rest of my belongings and begin to fiddle with some antidote kits. Medicine, along with history, has been another subject that has always interested me, and occasionally I will try to improve upon the various medicines that I posses. It is a good way to pass the time, although admittedly not quite as good as going through lightsaber maneuvers. After about a half-hour of this, my room's comlink begins to beep.

"Yes?" I say after activating the comlink's speaker.

"Jedi Bastila Shan wishes to see you in her quarters, sir," responds the voice on the other end of the transmission. "Room A-52."

"Tell her that I am on my way," I reply before turning off the comlink and sitting down on my bed

Bastila? Not Admiral Onasi? I suppose that rules out a debriefing. A skilled Jedi she may be, but I highly doubt that she knows proper Republic Intelligence briefing procedure. I suppose this is about my Force sensitivity, then. In any event, I shouldn't keep her waiting.

I rise from the bed and exit my quarters, smoothing out my uniform as I walk down the halls. After all, what is the point of wearing formal clothing if it isn't kept formal looking? It has been a while since I have been on a ship of this design, so it takes me a while for me to find room A-52, but I do eventually find it. After taking one last moment to gather myself, I knock twice on the door.

"Come in," says Bastila's voice, muffled by the steel.

Opening the door, I find her pouring over a datapad in a chair facing the doorway. She apparently took advantage of the _Sojourn_'s comforts as well, for she is wearing a fresh set of basic civilian clothes rather than the Jedi robes that she had been wearing since I met her on Onderon.

"You wanted to see me, Miss Shan?" I ask, seeing as she has not spoken first.

"Ah, Mical. Please sit," she offers, putting down her datapad as I take a seat in the only other chair in the room. "I will soon be leaving the _Sojourn_ on another task. Seeing that you now know more about recent events concerning the exiled Jedi Vagus Macheara than anyone else that we can trust, Carth and I have both agreed to offer you the option of aiding me in this task."

"Offer?" I ask, at first puzzled, but even as the word exits my mouth, my expression switches to one of realization. "That means…"

"Yes, Mical, this next task is not officially sanctioned by the Republic," she finishes for me. "It is 'off the books', so to speak."

Here I pause. Aside from covering up my past, I haven't done anything "off the books" since joining the Republic Military. I have always figured that was why the books were there: so that everything could be done "on" them. Additionally, when something was "off the books", it was usually something bad. Still, Bastila and the Admiral are loyal to the Republic, and their interests are usually the Republic's interests. I had best make sure, though.

"I know that you cannot give me the details, but could you tell me the purpose of this task before I commit to it?" I ask, not even sure what answer would suffice.

"Of course," replies Bastila simply. "We are going to rebuild the Jedi order."


	7. Chapter Seven

**To the readers/reviewers: **Oh my god! It's a zombie! Yes, calling upon the dark forces of darkness, but not very many adjectives, I have brought this fic back to life, just like I said I would now that I've finally finished my other one. To those who remember it and will continue to read even after a half year hiatus, you are beyond awesome. To those new readers: welcome, and please enjoy this fic of mine. To be honest, I've always really liked this fic, and have regretted not concluding it sooner. I vow to you here and now that I will not begin writing another fic until this is finished, and I shall do it to the best of my ability. Without further ado, I now return you to The Wayside!

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**The Wayside**

By Gan Xingba

**Chapter Seven**

I blink for a moment, processing the weight of what had just been said to me. Rebuild the Jedi order? It makes perfect sense that she would want to do that, but why bother telling me? I'm not a Jedi. I have little to no training, and would be of little use to the order as a Jedi.

"Excuse me, Miss Shan, but with all due respect, I don't see why you are telling me this," I say honestly. "I am indeed Force sensitive, but I am untrained…"

"Which is exactly _why_ I am telling you this, Mical," interrupts Bastila. "To rebuild the Order, we can't simply rely on the few surviving Jedi, we will need new trainees."

By the Force, she can't possibly be saying what I think she's saying. No, I must be mistaken. That would be ludicrous. She would never actually ask that of me…

"Mical, I want you to become my Padawan learner."

And yet she has. I cannot do anything but stare dumbly back at her, totally unable to think of a response. I can't say yes, that is right out. I am not…it would not be…well, I simply can't, bottom line. Then again, how can I say no? Admittedly, it is a lifelong dream of mine to be a Jedi, and here I have possibly the most capable Jedi in the whole galaxy offering to train me. With those two options out of the question, I choose a tactful third response.

"I…um…what?"

Ah yes, tactful indeed.

"I want you to become my apprentice," Bastila repeats firmly. "You may be unrefined right, but I sense a wealth of potential within you. I believe I can help mold that potential. Besides, it isn't as if you haven't been through the basics before, am I right?"

Well, all of my secrets seem to have been unveiled in a matter of days. I suppose there is no stopping a determined Jedi like Bastila from finding something out, especially when she has the connections that she has. I let out a long sigh and rub my forehead with my right hand, trying to rebuild my calm state of mind physically, since mental discipline seems to be failing entirely.

"I had Carth find your age in your Republic Intelligence file, and then checked the holo archives for group pictures of trainees from when you would have entered the academy," Bastila explains, answering my unasked question. "Fending off a trained Jedi mind probe is not something that is normally done without some kind of experience, so I decided to double check out of curiosity. You were very thorough. I only found one that contained someone who fit your description."

"Then perhaps you understand, Miss Shan, that I have plenty of reasons to decline your offer," I reply once I have regained a calm demeanor.

"And you also have plenty of reason to accept," Bastila replies with a small smile. "You do not have to decide now, however. While that is indeed a key reason as to _why _I would like you to accompany me on this next mission, it is not the mission itself. All I ask is that you consider my offer, and when this mission is complete, you may make your decision as you see fit."

I nod slowly in agreement. I have almost completely forgotten about the actual mission at this point. After all, who wouldn't be? That aside, her offer seems reasonable enough, as it shall allow me a good time to think on the issue. Although, I suppose that depends on what the mission is, exactly.

"As I said earlier, this mission is directly related restoring the Jedi Order," Bastila continues, quick to get back to business. "If we are to do so, then we need to gather as many capable Jedi as we can. We will start with Vagus Machaera."

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As someone who has traveled all over the galaxy, I have seen all different types of planets, both on the surface and from orbit. However, nothing quite matches Coruscant. From orbit, it looks almost like a massive work of art, decorated with a beautiful pattern of glowing lights that make the giant hive of sentient activity somehow beautiful. It almost transcends description.

Ah, but I have no time to admire it now, descending towards the galaxy's largest metropolis in my little shuttle with Bastila. I have a mission to worry about, a very intriguing one. As it turns out, I could have saved Bastila a great deal of explaining by gutting out her and Mandalore's…conversation back on Duxn. Apparently, according to Mandalore, Vagus had taken some Force sensitive companions under his wing, and trained them in the ways of the Jedi. While that in itself is intriguing, what's more is that they apparently progressed at an unbelievable rate, becoming full fledged Jedi in a matter of months, and powerful ones at that. In other words, whether he has intended it or not, he has started rebuilding the Jedi all on his own.

When they had departed for Malachor, there had been five of them. Two are human: one a man named Atton Rand, who also happens to be the pilot of their heavily modified freighter, which Bastila referred to as the _Ebon Hawk_, and the other a woman named Mira, an ex-bounty hunter. Another is a Zabrak male named Bao-Dur, the ship's mechanic, and another is an Echani warrior woman known by Mandalore as "The Handmaiden". While it is certainly a rag-tag crew, none of these are as surprising to me as the last of Vagus' crew: a Miraluka woman named Visas Mar, one of the sole survivors of her species, a race gifted with the extraordinary ability known as "Force Sight".

I now understand completely why Bastila had referred to this mission as being a key to restoring the Jedi order. With Vagus and with his five apprentices, the Jedi Order will be making a huge step towards rebuilding itself. It is truly of critical importance.

"The records of the Ebon Hawk's new ID that Can-I mean, Mandalore gave me indicate that they landed somewhere in this sector one day ago," speaks Bastila, rousing me from my thoughts as the shuttle continued to descend. "We don't know the exact location, but this will do just fine. I should be able to sense him easily enough when we arrive."

I nod at her in silent understanding. She is right, of course. Even my long abandoned Force senses flared up when I met Vagus on Dantooine. A Jedi of Bastila's caliber could probably sense him without even trying. No, finding Vagus won't be the difficult part, it's going to be convincing him to help that will be a problem. I suppose that's another reason for my presence. I know far more about Vagus then Bastila, or likely most anyone in Admiral Onasi's inner circle…which I seem to have stumbled my way into, I suppose.

"We have arrived at our destination, Masters," states the pilot droid, and I confirm this with a quick look out the main view-screen.

I follow Bastila off of the ship, but we go no more than a few paces when she stops. She must be searching for Vagus…but it is certainly taking longer than expected. It doesn't take a Force sensitive to see that she is having a little trouble.

"Is something amiss, Ms. Shan?" I ask politely, hoping I am not interrupting.

"Yes…it seems that our friend is not here," replies Bastila after a moment. "Either that or he has suddenly found a way to mask his presence."

"What about the others that Mandalore mentioned?" I suggest. "Can you sense them?"

"Oddly, yes," answers Bastila after another moment. "Or at least, I think it's them. I sense a fair number of strong Force users in the area. We should go make contact."

I nod an affirmative and follow Bastila as we start to trek through the endless skyways of Coruscant. I make sure to take note of the route we are taking. Bastila's Jedi senses may be able to guide us to the people we are seeking, but getting back to the ship is another matter entirely. Besides, I have to occupy myself with something, or else my thoughts may start wandering again. That's normally not a problem, bet with Bastila's Force senses temporarily heightened, caution should be taken with my thoughts. After several minutes of travel, Bastila suddenly halted.

"There seems to be a larger group some ways up ahead," she says softly as we step to the side of the walkway where we don't need to worry about being trampled on. "However, I'm sensing another strong presence coming from over there."

I follow Bastila's gaze over to a cantina entrance. The place seemed fairly busy, with beings constantly walking in and out, and a good deal of noise coming from the inside. I've said before that I'm not a big fan of cantinas, and this particular one looks as though it embodied all of my reasons why.

"We can't ignore either presence, so we'll have to split up. I'll head towards the larger group, you check inside the cantina," continues Bastila, causing me to shoot her a quizzical look without thinking about it.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Shan, but how am I supposed to find this person?" I ask hesitantly. "We don't have physical descriptions of any of them save Vagus, so how…"

"Simple, with the Force," replies Bastila, cutting me off. "Consider this your sample lesson, Mical. Now, calm yourself and try to empty your mind. Closing your eyes may help."

I grimace, but an insistent look from Bastila compels me to comply. Exhaling deeply, I close my eyes and try to relax like I do when I'm meditating. It takes a few moments, but eventually, the noise of Coruscant fades into the background, and my focus is nothing but myself. After another moment, I barely even take notice of my body, seemingly drifting in a peaceful void as that familiar feeling of tranquility completes itself.

'_Good, it seems that you are used to this part,'_ I hear Bastila say calmly, realizing midway through the sentence that she is speaking to me through the Force. _'Now comes the difficult part. Feel the Force flowing through you as though it is your blood. It is there, Mical, all you need do is acknowledge it.'_

Easier said then done, but this is again a step I have done before. Granted, I haven't done so for years, but I can do it. I slowly try to find the follow of the force within me, like someone trying to find a pulse without knowing where their veins are. After a few moments of groping around in the dark, I find it. It's almost overwhelming, but at the same time soothing, as though I'm facing upstream in a small river.

'_Very good, it seems you're remembering,'_ acknowledges Bastila's voice serenely. _'Next, gently, become one with it. Absorb it, and take it on as a part of yourself, and let yourself become a part of it.'_

Again, it is much more difficult than it appears, but everything I knew is slowly starting to return to me. Gradually, I rein it in, until at last it is no longer a river, but like a small pool of water surrounding me, unmoving.

'_Now, reach out with it. Feel the world around you.'_

I do as Bastila says, and within moments, I am overwhelmed. Thoughts and emotions from the countless beings rushing through my head like some crazed babble. I can't make sense of it.

'_Remain calm. You are taking in everything at once from too close up. Take a step back. Look at the world more broadly, and then when you find the point you are looking for, focus in on it.'_

I dull my focus, as Bastila suggest, and instead of countless things rushing through my head, I see but one image, scattered with various different points, some dull, and some bright. I see one particularly bright spot, and as Bastila said, I focus in on it. Suddenly, I open my eyes and look towards the cantina. I can feel that spot tugging me towards it. It's there, the presence Bastila was talking about. Somehow, I just know it's there.

"I can't believe it. I haven't done anything like that since the academy," I say, unable to hide my disbelief. "I can feel the presence so clearly…"

"As I said, you have great potential," responds Bastila with a small smile that I can only guess is out of amusement. "Even for someone who was a trainee before, you catch on very quickly."

"Please don't assume that this means I have accepted your offer, yet, Ms. Shan," I say hastily, but only after realizing that I said "yet." "I do, however, appreciate your assistance, for the purposes of this mission, of course."

"Of course," Bastila replies with another small smile. "You should have enough of a grasp on the technique to be able to find the Force user in that cantina now. If it's one of those that we're looking for, try to bring them back to the ship. I'll meet you there."

Bastila slips into the crowd of pedestrians before I can respond, quickly disappearing from view. I don't simply mean my eyes, either. She has masked her presence completely, or at least enough so one of my low level would not detect her. Probably a shrewd move, considering all the Dark Jedi Vagus and his crew have tangled with, they might get jumpy if a strong Force presence suddenly shows up on their doorstep. I have no such luxury, although it's very possible I don't need it, untrained as I am. That aside, I have a mission to complete, and I patiently work my way through the crowd outside into the large cantina.

The place is packed to the brim, and without my reawakened Force senses, I would have no chance at finding the force user in here. As it stands, I do have my Force senses, and they are pointing me strongly towards the bar. As I make my way over there, I scan the beings seated there. There's a group of Ithorians, a Rodian, and numerous other beings, but none of them emit even the faintest whisper of the Force. The human male sitting at the end of the bar, however, is a different story. He may as well have a neon sign over his head from all the Force power he is unconsciously emitting. Although he looks like a normal spacer, jacket, sloppy hair and all, with that kind of Force aura he must be one of Vagus' apprentices: the human male called Atton Rand.

Casually, I work my way over to the bar and slip down into the seat beside him. Without throwing him so much as a glance, I order a random Corellian Ale to add to the charade, throwing some credit chips nonchalantly on the counter. I take a few sips, briefly pretending to watch the speeder race on the bar's television for a few moments. One can never be too careful about blending in, because often if you stand out, you'll attract more attention than just your target. The bad kind of attention.

"Interesting race, don't you think?" I say just loudly enough to make sure the man hears me. "Who's your pick to win?"

"Shir'za The _Black Falcon_ is levels above the other speeders, you can just tell by how it handles the turns," he replies, apt not to draw attention by not staying too quiet.

"Well, that's certainly odd. I would have thought you more of a _hawk_ person," I return, before throwing him a quick glance with my eyes and lowering my voice. "Mr. Atton Rand."

Not a moment after I've said that, I feel something hard pressed against the small of my back, obviously a blaster pistol. Atton, however, has not moved, so this is clearly his back up. Was this whole thing a trap?

"And if he's a hawk, I guess that would make you a sparrow," says a female voice from behind me, confirming my suspicions. "Now keep your mouth shut and start walking towards the back door."

I try to get a look at the woman behind me, but catch nothing aside from a few locks of red hair. So much for my new Force senses. I have to suppress a sigh as I stand and slowly follow Atton towards the back door. Why is it that wherever I go, I always get a weapon pointed at me?


	8. Chapter Eight

**To the readers/reviewers: **Hi, sorry this took so long. A combination of writer's block, college, and a new job has been eating away at my time, and I write slowly to begin with. Seriously, I feel like an ass for taking this long to update all the time. If you guys are still there, I hope you can forgive me long enough to enjoy this latest chapter. The next one should be the finale, so don't worry, you'll have closure on this soon.

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**The Wayside**

By Gan Xingba

**Chapter Eight**

Upon exiting the bar out the back, I'm led a short distance down a deserted alley before being shoved roughly towards a wall by the woman with the blaster. I manage to reach out and stop myself with my forearms to prevent my head from colliding into it, but before I get the chance to do much else, I'm already being patted down with the blaster once again being pressed against my back. Within a few moments, my blaster is gone, and the woman has seemingly backed up a few steps, surely still pointing a blaster at me.

"All right, sunshine, turn around slowly and keep those hands up," I hear Atton say.

If only I had a credit for every time someone called me that. His lack of originality aside, I still comply with his request. I'm not here to try and start a fight anyway. As I turn, I get to see my redheaded captor completely, who I can now confirm is a human female and thus is likely the one called Mira. She looks a bit small next to Atton, and her somewhat revealing get up does not appear to be practical at first glance. However, based on the way she holds a blaster, she looks to be experienced and capable despite this. Additionally, if she is indeed a Jedi, she must have been able to hide her presence from not only me, but Bastila as well. Granted, Bastila was not likely searching the cantina all that hard, but it was an accomplishment nonetheless. No matter, I'm here to talk, not to fight.

"You must be Mira, then," I say. "It's pleasure to make your acquaintance, although I was only expecting Mr. Rand, here."

"Keep up that bullshit attitude and it won't be such a pleasure," the redhead says sharply.

"And if you don't answer our questions, it might be even less of a pleasure," Atton chimes in, crossing his arms. "Now then, who sent you, and why?"

I smile back at the two would-be Jedi as they start they're interrogation. As expected, I immediately feel someone digging into my mind looking for answers. They are nowhere near as subtle or skilled as Bastila was in this department, it seems. As such, I can quite aptly multitask and fend their probing off while still speaking.

"Technically, I was not really sent here by anyone, I came of my own free will," I reply. "But I work for Republic Intelligence, if that's what you mean, although this current excursion does not officially involve them."

"Yeah, and my cousin's a two foot tall Wookie," retorted Atton irritably, and I'm now almost sure it is Mira doing the mind probing. "I'll bet you left your ID in your other uniform too, right?"

He had me there. It would be foolish to carry a Republic ID while on an off-the-record mission like this, so I had naturally left it behind. Of course, the odds are that Atton knows this as well, as it's only common sense, and is merely trying to provoke some kind of response by asking a question he already knows the answers to. It's a fairly common interrogation technique, so I suppose it's not that surprising that he is using it. Still, there is a chance he has some experience at this, judging by the way he is handling himself. I had better just get straight to the point, if this is indeed the case.

"Obviously, I lack my official ID, but I have something better back at my ship," I reply calmly. "Would a Jedi Knight serve to ease your concerns?"

For a moment, the two stare at me, clearly trying to feel out my emotions with the Force to try and detect any kind of deception. They quickly glance at each other, though both seem to be keeping me in the corner of their eye. After a moment, they turn back to me, apparently knowing each other well enough to figure out what they were both thinking from that glance. They must have been a part of Vagus' crew for a while, it seems; at least a few months.

"That depends, on the Jedi," Atton replies slowly. "Wh-"

"Bastila Shan," I quickly interrupt.

"You think we're stupid?" snaps Mira. "Bastila Shan is-"

"Quite alive," I cut in again with a small smile. "She's been quietly active behind the scenes during this whole crisis, and now that it has been resolved she is ready to step back onto the galactic forefront, as it were. The question is, are you willing to follow her lead?"

Silence answers me as the two again seem to be contemplating my truthfulness. They have surely put the pieces together by now. Now all that remains is to see if they accept Bastila's offer.

"You do not need to answer now. Just follow me back to our ship, and all your questions shall be answered," I continue. "You may even keep that blaster pointed at me as insurance if you wish, but I give you my word that there is no trickery afoot. So, what say you?"

"Watch that tone, blondie," Atton snaps quickly, jabbing a finger at me. "All right, we'll play along, but if you think of trying anything, you'll regret it. And that's a guarantee."

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The word "anxious" fails to accurately describe my mood at the moment. I think a sabaak analogy fits best: Imagine, if you will, that you are playing a game of sabaak, and have been dealt a very good hand. So good is this hand, in fact you decide to put a rather large amount of money in on this one hand. However, across the table I a very good sabaak player, and he continues to see you as you put more and more money in. In fact, he raises you so that you have to go all in on this one hand. Now, you know your hand is good, and the odds are for you winning, but there is still the possibility that this skilled sabaak player has a better hand that could lose everything for you. Now, take all that emotion that you would be feeling at that moment and examine it. _That_ is how am I feeling right now. I have, after all, been sitting here for the past thirty minutes, waiting for Bastila to return to the ship as I sit here with a blaster pointed at one of my vital organs.

Adding to this mood is Atton's constant pacing about the hanger, which started about ten minutes ago. It's also been a good fifteen minutes since anyone has said anything at all, and at least twenty since I spoke, as any remarks I would make were generally not received well. Bastila really needs to get here soon, or I may get shot out of sheer irritation.

"Well I'll be…" says Atton out of the blue, suddenly halting his pacing and turning to Mira. "You sense them, too?"

Mira nods, and both turn towards the hangar entrance. I follow their gaze, and moment later, Bastila steps through, followed by a small entourage, carrying some travel cases. The first one that draws my attention is the Zabrak, who was referred to as Bao-Dur, walking casually behind Bastila. His robotic arm is far more impressive looking than I had assumed, emitting a constant flickering blue glow from some sort of energy beam that appears to be holding it together. The next one I recognize is the unnamed Echani, her white hair a dead giveaway, and next to her walks what can only be the Miraluka, Visas Marr, with the upper part of her face covered in a red shroud. I've heard that not only are the Miraluka blind in the usual sense of the word, but that they have empty pits where their eyes should be. That this particular Miraluka is actually fairly attractive makes the thought all the more eerie to me. Seeing us, the group moves to approach us, but slow down to a cautious walk when they see the situation I'm in.

"I take it this is the companion you were referring to, Bastila?" asks the Zabrak, his voice calm with an almost whispery quality to it.

"Yes, that is Mical," Bastila answers, her eyes fixed on Mira. "I trust that is sufficient reason to point that blaster somewhere else."

The Zabrak nods to Mira, and I turn my head enough to see her put the blaster away. At last, I am able to rise from the crate I have been sitting on. After stretching my legs for a moment, I am returned my blaster, and at last I can breathe a little more easily. Taking up a position next to Bastila, it is only now that I observe the whole group that I realize what a ragtag bunch they are, and I do not simply mean their relative diversity. Their clothes are worn, and they have faces to match. They look as though they haven't seen rest of either the physical or mental nature in weeks. Even Bao-Dur and Visas, the only ones whose expressions are closest to that of the classic Jedi calm, seem to carry the slightest slump in posture, and in the Zabrak's case, noticeable rings under the eyes. Of course, were I battling the Sith for months on end, I doubt I would look much better, if there was anything left of me to look at, anyway.

"So, care to explain what's going on?" Mira asks, although it does not seem she cares who answers.

"We have been offered a part in rebuilding the Jedi Order," answers the Miraluka. "It seems that the actual search was for Vagus, but, as we have informed Bastila already, that is now impossible."

"Excuse me, but what exactly do you mean by that?" I ask immediately. "Surely you don't mean…"

"No, the General is still alive," Bao-Dur interrupts. "However, he took our astromech droid and our ship, and then departed to the Unknown Regions without our knowing, and only became aware of where he had gone through a message he left for us."

The Unknown Regions? Isn't that where Revan was supposed to have disappeared to? That cannot be pure coincidence, and that is for certain. I shall have to find out more on this later. For now, however, I should try to hold in my curiosity a bit more thoroughly to avoid any delays. With this in mind, I nod in understanding, allowing the wayward "Jedi" to continue figuring things out.

"Back to the point," Atton chimes in, turning his gaze to Bastila. "It just so happens that Vagus asked us to do the same thing in the message he left us, so we'll help. The question is, do you have any idea how we're going to do it?"

"Of course. If I hadn't had a plan, I wouldn't have come," Bastila responds, and I grimace as her characteristic regal tone rises back to the surface. "We'll need to go on a little trip to meet up with another party, however, so I had your companions take the liberty of packing your things."

"If you mean space travel, I don't think we'll be able to do that with your ship," speaks up the Echani for the first time. "It's far too small."

She has a point, I realize. That shuttle is not meant for more than two, or possibly three people. With the crew we have gained, it would be impossible to take us to the other side of the planet, much less the galaxy.

"I'm aware of that, so I called in a favor," Bastila says coolly. "It's why we landed in such a large hanger with so small a ship."

Another detail I seem to have missed. I have been far too distracted lately. Looking around, I can tell that the hanger is indeed quite large. A decent sized freighter could easily slide in next to our tiny shuttle. As if on cue, the rumbling of approaching engines catches my attention, and I turn to see a ship approaching the hanger. It takes me a moment, but I soon recognize it as a DT-300 light freighter, one the Corellian Engineering Corporation's latest attempts to prevent Kuat Drive Yards from muscling its way into the light freighter market. Ever since CEC swallowed up Corellian StarDrive after the latter's senior design team was killed in a freak shuttle accident just after the war with Exar Kun, the two companies have been at economic war for domination of the starship industry, always trying to one up each other on every front. CEC clearly makes superior freighters for the civilian market, but the military contracts go consistently to KDY.

That is how it has been for my entire life, and it does not appear to be changing anytime soon. Still, every now and then, KDY tries to move in on CEC's territory, or vice versa, only to get shut out with the release of a new, far superior product. The DT-300 is a classic example, offering vastly superior speed and maneuverability while maintaining similar cargo and passenger capacity, not to mention the classic Corellian room for customization. Clearly, the owner of this approaching vessel had taken full advantage of that. The stock model of the DT-300 was ordinary enough, featuring standard circular shape that CEC normally churns out with wedge seemingly missing from the front of the ship to set the cockpit off to the side a bit. However, it is significantly more streamlined and rounded off than other CEC designs, giving it an almost saucer like appearance if you ignore the gap in the front, with no truly unique markings.

This specific ship was another matter entirely. In addition to the two turrets mounted on the top and bottom of the craft that came standard, it also had a large cannon jutting out from its left side that looked like it belonged on a capital ship, probably able to swivel for slight targeting adjustments. The only other visible enhancements, visible being the key word obviously, are a series of antennas and arrays crammed into the aforementioned gap at the front of the ship. However, I would bet that there are dozens of other enhancements that just can't be seen. Whoever's ship this was, they were serious about their hardware, even if they seemed to have a penchant for light blue.

"Do all Jedi get one of those?" wonders Atton dreamily as the ship enters the hanger.

"It's not a Jedi," replies Bastila with a small smile. "Just a friend of them."

The ship lands almost cautiously, rather like someone setting down a fragile artifact. With a small thud and a loud hiss from the thrusters, it finally sets down. A moment later, the ramp descends to the hanger floor, and out walks its apparent captain. She's a young Twi'lek woman, or more specifically a Rutian Twi'lek, as her blue skin tone dictates. Her appearance is fairly intruiging, for while she has the looks and body of a dancer, she's decked out in the kind of apparel that one would expect on a smuggler, boots, sleeveless vest and all. Striding confidently down the ramp with a rougish grin and her hand resting casually on the blaster at her hip, she appears to be getting quite the kick out of everyone's reactions to her sudden appearance.

"Well, doesn't look like Bastila introduced me yet. I'm Mission Vao, and this here's the _Blue Bombshell_," she announced, gesturing to the ship behind her. "I hear you guys need a ride."


	9. Chapter Nine

1**To the readers/reviewers: **Yes, I know, I'm the worst updater ever. I really have no legitimate excuse for being this late, and most (if not all) of my original readers have likely forgotten all about me and moved on. Still, I truly do like this story, and so help me, I will finish it eventually. There's just one more chapter to go after this, folks, so enjoy the ride while it lasts, and thanks for reading.

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**The Wayside**

By Gan Xingba

**Chapter Nine**

The inside of the _Blue Bombshell_ is no less modified than the outside. Even though it has been less than a minute after our newly formed pseudo-Jedi coalition has taken to the stars in the vessel, I have already spotted six pieces of non-standard equipment crammed into various nooks and crannies all over the ship. I am positive that five of them are illegal enhancements, and I am only somewhat unsure of the sixth one because it had a tarp over it that read "Warning: It Bites" in sloppy red handwriting. Everyone has scattered to various parts of the ship to rest or otherwise occupy themselves, with Mission, Atton and I left in the cockpit. Mission to pilot the ship, myself standing ready to pull rank on any zealous Republic authorities that decide to be a nuisance, and Atton presumably because he himself is a pilot.

"This certainly is some ship. These modifications must have cost a fortune," Atton says from his position in the copilot's chair. "Not to mention I have no idea how you could land this thing without every badge polishing authority on the planet flocking to you."

"I have a lot of friends in high places. Low ones, too," answers Mission with a smug smirk. "That, and skill. Lots and _lots_ of skill."

"The questionable ethics of this vessel aside, where exactly is our destination?" I query, taking advantage of the relative silence Atton's chuckle provides.

Mission turns around in the chair and gives me a look that seems somewhere between disappointment and skepticism. Clearly, she wanted to enjoy her gloating for a little while longer, which explains the disappointment. The skepticism is a bit harder to explain though. I shift uncomfortably under the look, having let my normal guard down now that the "mission" is complete. Still, even without being prepared I can handle most looks like this. This Twi'lek must play a lot of pazaak.

"Huh, I would have thought Bastila would have told her wonder-kid the whole plan," she says dryly before turning back to the ship's controls. "We're going to Kashyyyk."

Bastila's "wonder-kid?" It would figure. Bastila never really intended to give me much of a choice in the matter of my training. As I noticed earlier, she is not the type to take no for an answer. Then again, I seem to have been leaning towards accepting her offer myself. Perhaps she is not trying to make me choose the path of the Jedi so much as she simply knows that it is the path I am destined to take. Of course, I could simply be reading into the comment too much, but I doubt it. Force sensitive, expertly trained intelligence agents tend to have good intuition about this sort of thing.

"Wait, wait, wait, Kashyyyk? The Wookiee planet?" asks Atton. "The Jedi we're meeting are Wookies?"

"Not exactly, but you'll get your fair share of Wookiees, don't worry," replies Mission after a small laugh. "Okay, here we go. Hyperspace in three, two…"

As Mission utters the word "one", her hand pushes the hyperspace lever down completely and the stars turn into lines of light as the Blue Bombshell enters hyperspace. Pressing a few more buttons, ostensibly to put the ship on autopilot, Mission yawns loudly and props her feet up on the console. I don't need to be told that Kashyyyk is a ling way from the core, and that means I suddenly have a lot free time on my hands. Offering a brief farewell to Mission and Atton, I leave two alone in the cockpit to discuss starship upgrades, pazaak, or whatever else it is that spacers talk about. That's not to say they aren't good people, even if Atton strikes me as a bit brazen, but it will be a long flight to Kashyyyk if that's all I hear about.

Now that I am free to speak to Vagus' crew as I please, I ought to find out exactly what has happened to Vagus. First, however, I ought to clear my head with some meditation. I've been put through quite mental swoop track lately, and it would do me some good to give my mind some well deserved rest for a while. As I head to the back of the ship to search for a suitable place for this, I pass the Zabrak, Bao-Dur, hunched over a workbench. He seems to be working on some sort of spherical piece of equipment, and it looks to be nearly complete. In fact, I daresay he's building a tiny little droid. Well, I guess that answers where his cybernetic arm came from.

Continuing onward, I eventually find the cargo hold. There are stack of crates scattered in a seemingly random pattern across the hold, the lighting is dim, and there is hardly a sound aside from the thrumming of the _Bombshell_'s engines. It's perfect. Making my way to the back of the hold, I sit down with my legs crossed and hold my out to my sides in a relaxed posture. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, and when I exhale, I allow my mind to slip into the void. The sound of the engine is gone. The cold metal I am sitting on is gone. All that is here is me and my thoughts.

No…wait. There is something else, but what…ah, of course. It's the Force. I haven't felt it while meditating for a long time, and the last time I remember it being present, it had been incredibly weak. Thanks to Bastila, though, it feels stronger than ever. I cannot help but reach out with my mind and touch it, for it is too beautiful not to. Instantly, I can see the world again, but it is different, like back on Coruscant, but more precise. I can feel all the presences on the ship with ease. Bastila, the strongest presence, is in a room on the starboard side. Mission, the weakest presence as she is the only non-Jedi, is still in the cockpit, and another presence is sitting in the same spot as Bao-Dur had been. Suddenly, my attention I focused on another presence, one that is approaching my location in the cargo hold. Puzzling, why would anyone come back here?

Immediately, I cut off my meditation and open my eyes just in time to see the unnamed Echani woman walk through the hold's entryway, looking somewhat startled as she notices me here. It's a tad odd that she didn't simply sense me here, but then again she would have no reason to be actively feeling out the ship with the Force on a ship full of allies.

"Oh, I'm interrupting," she says quietly before starting to turn back and leave. "I'll find somewhere else…"

"No, no, it's fine. I assure you, there is plenty of cargo hold for the both of us if you wish to use the space," I interject, not wanting to seem rude. "However, I am curious to know what it is you came back here to do."

"Training," the Echani deadpans after giving a small nod of thanks.

Well, she's certainly a cheerful person. She has a very clipped and rigid walk that I notice as she heads to the far corner of the cargo hold, although it seems a little forced. I had best not pry further, though. I do not wish for any hostilities. Especially if I beco-gah! No, not now, I can't think about that yet, I have to clear my mind. With this purpose I sink back into my meditation. At least, that is what I try to do, for after a moment I hear the snap-hiss of not one, but two lightsabers being activated. After a moment of trying, and failing miserably, to focus as I hear them whir through the air, curiosity gets the better of me.

I open my eyes ever so slightly and glance in the direction o the Echani woman. She is indeed in possession of two glowing, yellow lightsabers. While I have heard of a select few Jedi being able to wield two lightsabers effectively, I have never actually seen the sight up until now. It's rather stunning how much power she seems to be able to generate behind each strike even with just one hand. I suppose this is part of the fabled martial skill of the Echani, who are supposed to be almost unmatched in close combat. I guess that was one lesson Vagus did not need to teach. Suddenly, she comes to an abrupt halt. Closing my eyes, I hurriedly try to pretend I hadn't been watching and reenter my meditation. Calm...calm...depression-wait, depression? I have no reason to feel depressed. In fact, I don't even feel depressed myself. Yet for some reason, the feeling just popped into my head. Where did it come from?

I feel a small tug at my mind all of a sudden, almost as if someone is trying to answer my question. I follow it as it guides my senses, and immediately I have my answer. It is the Echani. I know meditation heightens a Jedi's Force senses, but to think that I could actually feel her emotions already is a little hard to swallow. After all, I can't sense anyone else's emotions. Perhaps her emotions are just so strong that even a novice like myself can feel them. If that is the case, then I really should offer some counsel, or at least an ear. It is the proper thing to do.

"Is there something wrong, miss?" I ask. "You seem troubled."

"So, you are a Jedi after all," the Echani replies, giving me a less than thrilled glance. "I had my doubts after I heard about your meeting with Atton and Mira."

That hardly sounded flattering. She sounds like she is trying to call me incompetent. I'll just assume that she worded that poorly. Besides, she might just be trying to change the subject. I don't really want to pry too much, but this may have something to do with Vagus' disappearance. If that is the case, then I absolutely must know about it.

"Well, I'm not _really_ a Jedi, just Force sensitive. However, that's more than enough to sense the kind of emotion that you're emitting," I reply with a small smile in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere a little.

"Really?" she says quietly and shifts her gaze downward "Is it really that obvious?"

Well, that certainly backfired. Time for damage control.

"Ah...actually, I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't been meditating. Normally, I don't need the Force at all for that sort of thing. I am a Republic Intelligence agent, after all," I add somewhat hastily. "If you do not wish to talk about it..."

"No, it's fine," interjects the Echani before giving me small, almost microscopic smile. "Besides, with the kind of curiosity you are emitting, you'd find a way to ask, anyway."

I smile at her again, although this time it is more out of embarrassment. The task of both sensing other people's emotions with the Force while hiding my own is a difficult thing to master, it seems. At any rate, I'm sure she is wondering what exactly is behind my curiosity. I should offer an explanation, albeit an amended version.

"I apologize if I seem overeager, but I know Vagus from a long time ago..." I start before diverging from the entire truth somewhat. "I suppose I feel an obligation to help his companions in his absence."

"I see," the Echani says slowly glancing at me a moment before leaning against a wall on the opposite side of the room from myself. "I'm afraid that you can do little good. What troubles me, what troubles us all, is the fact that he absent."

There is a long silence. I suppose that should have been more obvious to me. Vagus has always been a quite the dynamic presence. Remove him from a situation, and it can sometimes be akin to draining it of life. That was the power of his charisma.

"He and I, we sparred," the Echani says, breaking the silence. "It's not a normal thing to do, spar with someone who is not Echani, I mean. Yet, when I sparred with him, I felt more at home than sparring with my own sisters. Now…it just doesn't feel right to train without him here. I understand why he chose to leave, he said that he was needed to fight a great evil, and he had to do it alone, but…I can't help being selfish and wishing he was here instead."

Fighting a great evil? I suppose that's reason enough for such a departure to the Unknown Regions, but even so it seems odd. Even if it was true, how could he possibly know about this evil? Perhaps it was connected to Revan's disappearance, and they were both called to fight this evil. That's it, as soon as I am able, I need to read up on the Unknown Regions. Maybe the Jedi library would have something…

Suddenly, I realize _how_ the Echani was speaking and not just the words she was saying. Simply the tone of her voice, carrying that "why in the name of the Force am I saying this?" quality, indicated something odd. In fact, it seems like she's opening up to me. While I'm used to getting people to do that on missions to gather information, I sometimes accidentally trigger it when I'm off duty. As I take a closer look at her, it becomes obvious that this has happened again. Her hands, steady before, look almost fidgety, and her cheeks carry the lightest shade of red I have ever seen. Suddenly, I put two and two together: the way she is acting, how she said she was "wishing he was here" and that she "felt at home" with him all make the answer painfully obvious. My word, this is Vagus'…that is to say she and he…and that would mean…oh dear.

I feel my jaw drop slightly and my eyes widen. The Echani must have noticed, because her blush immediately moves to much more detectable levels. She mutters some unintelligible farewell and makes to leave. Cursing inwardly, I rise and take a light hold of her wrist to stop her.

"Wait, it's okay, there's no reason to be embarrassed or ashamed," I say hastily, causing her to pause her exit to regard me. "To be perfectly honest, I didn't simply know Vagus from before. You could say that I was a fan of his, actually. Some might describe it as a sort of 'hero worship' situation, I guess."

"You worshipped him?" asks the Echani, now fairly puzzled. "You mean you viewed him as some kind of god?"

"Heavens, no!" I amend immediately, though I can't help but laugh. "No, that just means I looked up to him very much. I saw him as a hero, you see?"

The Echani nods slowly in understanding, and pulls her hand away from mine. However, she no longer seems intent on escaping the conversation. In fact, I think she is giving me anther one of those tiny smiles.

"Well, it is nice to know someone who understands me about these...matters," says the Echani before offering a small bow. "Thank you for the conversation, Mical. I feel a little more a ease now."

"It was my pleasure, Miss…?" I reply, realizing that I still have not found out her name.

"Brianna," she replies after a moment's hesitation. "My name is Brianna."

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Brianna," I say with a polite bow. "Perhaps we shall find more time to converse in the future."

Brianna nods and exits the cargo hold, leaving me all alone. It is the strangest thing, though. For some reason, I feel strangely complete after that conversation, as though two different threads of fate have combined into one. Perhaps my presence here is indeed the will of the Force, as though even if the universe were a different place, I would have always ended up here, having that conversation with Brianna in the cargo hold.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Now, boys and girls, if you look out the nearest viewport you'll see the lovely planet of Kashyyyk, home of the seven-foot tall balls of fur, the biggest trees in the galaxy and several species of insects that will can bite your head clean off…"

If I ever set foot on this ship again, I swear my ancestors' graves that I will find a way to disable the intercom. Mission, while certainly a good person and normally a pleasure to be around, has some kind of addiction to announcing things over the ship's intercom. Towards the end of the flight, it became an almost hourly affair under the guise of an updated ETA that inevitably became either a rather juvenile joke or just a long string of irrelevant fluff. So, instead of looking out a viewport to get a view of the planet, I instead opt to go wait in the area by the ship's exit ramp, almost in defiance Mission's abuse of the intercom.

I find that I am not the only one with such an idea, as Bastila, Bao-Dur and Visas are all already seated there. I find an empty seat and sit silently down, noting that all three of them seem to be concentrating on something else other than the present. That, unfortunately, has been the norm for Bastila in particular during the flight. In fact, now that I think about it, she seems to have been avoiding a personal conversation with me. It seems I did not give her enough credit. She really is letting me make my own decision about my future. She will ask me about it soon, though, since this whole affair is soon coming to an end, but by that time, I believe, I will be fully ready to give it.

It takes us another few minutes to reach the surface of Kashyyyk, or more likely somewhere in the trees above its surface. The actual surface is supposedly quite dangerous, so I'd assume one would avoid putting a ship there. Not surprisingly, another intercom announcement accompanies every stage of the landing. I try my best to block them out.

"We have a welcoming comitee, it seems," Bao-Dur remarks as he moves to lower the exit ramp. "Some more of our young captain's friends, Lady Shan?"

"Yes, some old comrades in arms, you might say," Bastila replies. "In fact, you'll find that the Wookies as a whole are stout allies of the Jedi due to our last trip here during the Jedi Civil War. Of course, if you want stories, you'd be better off asking your other senior Jedi."

Bastila's statement leaves me curious, but not for long. Having already reached out with my senses after Bao-Dur's comment, I felt two strong presences in the Force outside the ship, with one of them being particularly impressive, perhaps as strong as Bastila. As the exit ramp lowers and me and my new comrades walk exit the _Bombshell_, I look around to try and see just who this person is. My curiosity is quickly satisfied, as I find my attention drawn strangely away from the elaborately decorated Wookies, one of whom is carrying a large blade on his back, and towards and elderly, dark skinned human in Jedi robes. He is standing net to a younger, much lighter skinned human male, but I pay that one no heed.

I_ recognize_ that face. It's someone famous, someone I have studied frequently, but the name is escaping me…my word, it's Jolee Bindo! The one and only Jedi Master Jolee Bindo is standing right there. Hero of the Exar Kun War, famous vigilante of the outer rim and one of the more powerful wielders of the Force in recent memory…I should say hello. No, no, that would make me look like some weird fan. Well, technically I am a fan, but I'm not weird. Maybe Bastila will introduce me or…

Suddenly, I find myself pushed aside as a blue streak bursts down the exit ramp and collides with the Wookie possessing the sword, much to my dismay. The Wookie, of course, is totally unfazed, letting out what sounds like a slightly amused, bear like sound

"Of course you missed me, Big Z. You're so lost without me," Mission says as she finally lets the Wookie out of her hug as the Wookie lets out a rumbling growl. "Oh, you know it's true. It looks like you figure out how to put that cute jewelry on without me, though." Another growl, "Yes, yes, ancestral chieftain whatever. It still looks adorable."

"Some things never change, do they?" says Jolee with a warm smile as he approaches Bastila.

"And it's good that they don't, especially when they're as amusing as this," returns Bastila with equal warmth before turning to Vagus' former crew and I. "Everyone, this is Jedi Master Jolee Bindo, and his apprentice Dustil Onasi, they are the other Jedi I mentioned earlier. The Wookie trying to prevent his hair from being braided over there is Zalbaar, chieftain of the Wookie tribes in this region."

Onasi? As in Admiral Carth Onasi? This is certainly turning into a star studded occasion. I had no idea that the Admiral even had a son, much less a son that was a Jedi, and he happens to be training under a legendary Jedi Master. Remarkable. Not only that, but being on such good terms with the Wookies here is equally unbelievable, both in terms of actual probability and good fortune. With such powerful friends on a fairly unknown and uncivilized planet with so much life on it, this is an ideal safe house for the rebuilding Jedi Order.

"So, that means they're all…good Wookies, right? No homicidal ones?" Mira says somewhat nervously, much to my surprise.

Odd, what has her so spooked? She has seemed like a pretty tough woman to me, ever since she threatened me with a blaster. Dustil, apparently, is more amused than perplexed, letting out a laugh at the comment.

"Don't worry, it's like Bastila said, they're all on are side. After all, Mission has known Zalbaar for years," he says assuredly, before a blue fist appears out of nowhere and smacks him in the shoulder.

"Didn't stop you from being scared when you saw Big Z for the first time, Mr. Big Tough Jedi Manly-Man," she teases with a wink, causing Dustil to chuckle somewhat nervously and hold back a blush.

"Save your flirting for when we get back to the village so I don't have to hum songs in my head to block it out," chimes in Jolee rather bluntly, causing stifled laughter throughout the party as the offending parties turn red with embarrassment. "AS for the rest of you, you can bug me with your life stories over dinner."

It's a good thing I didn't introduce myself to Jolee earlier. He's not only as strong as the tales say, but just as grumpy. Maybe grumpier.


End file.
